weird

His body walks out onto the darkened stage , and a roar goes up from the crowd. He stands in front of the mic, and he can feel his face twist in a sneer-the Elvis sneer from his dreams-though he never told it to move. He is powerless now, a spectator at his own moment of glory.

It was at the outskirts of the world that the Old Things accumulated, like driftwood round the edges of the sea. ("The Troll")

Evil should not be, Detective Vera. Truly never can be. But in defining it as such, an inherent human bond with negativity confirms its very existence. Its mere acknowledgement cancels its credibility. Evil is nothing__he lack of anything of substance_ made concrete as a balance to everything else. Evil is not, yet it is a part ofeach human, because humans welcome its participation in their lives. They speak of it in anger or disgust, fear or even wonder_ the most appropriate response_ giving it a stronger foundation with every passing thought it distorts. Though within their pliable minds, they welcome it with the glee of the ignorant, nurturing the unthinkable, thinking the unimaginable, imagining the most horrid, abysmal designs, embellishing them with an insidious veracity until evil is as substantial a reality as their next breath. I strive for something else, beyond evil__ claustrophobic clutches. I strive to transcend evil by becoming pure nothing. I strive as my followers strived._ He paused, his ideology a cancer, spreading_ __ am, yet I strive to not be. Do you understand, comrade?_ His tone suggested fellowship, disciples of the same obscene religion. ...

Such ordeals always strike one with their strangeness, their digression from the normal flow of events, and often provoke a universal protest: "Why me?" Be sure that this is not a question but an outcry. The person who screams it has been instilled with an astonishing suspicion that he, in fact, has been the perfect subject for a very specific "weird," a tailor-made fate, and that a prior engagement, in all its weirdness, was fulfilled at the appointed time and place.

Many writers make the mistake of making their readers appear like Lazarus, without any iota of care, throwing down books to readers to crunch as if they are dogs.

Writers,_ Esther said simply. __or some reason, a lot of you reject what you hear and see in your heads. If you go too long ignoring it, it builds up and then you do all sorts of weird things. Mumble to yourself. Nightmares. Daydreams. Total anarchy and chaos. Before you know it, the writer is either sitting in a corner feverishly humming to his- or herself or on Prozac.

There's nothing sexier than imaging myself as an Oxford comma getting unambiguously banged. Throw in a semicolon in between two closely related independent clauses, and a volcanic love of punctuation eruption is guaranteed.

We all know interspecies romance is weird.

Your oddity is your hottest commodity but you scratch yourself like it's the lottery to reject yourself mentally, spiritually & bodily.

I, myself, love complications and mystery which I didn't notice that I had become one.

It's not really my problem if they think I'm weird.

I'm quite aware of my differences. I wouldn't classify them as weird

An anomaly has his own ambitions. You can try reasoning with him, but that's like using money to bribe a beast.

Destroy yourself. Be on the edge of it all, and right before that weird place tells you to let it go completely; let the energy go in all directions. Falling on your face will never be fun, or purposeful. You don't own energy; you own the inertia!

Nothing Is Strange

If you think of evil things, you are likely to do evil things and that will never pay you a pesewa. Think of good things and do good always!

Being weird adds spice to life. Having weird friends just deepens the flavor

You should find something better to do with your time,_ Mandy told him. __ spend my time shooting people, and then I take them to darkrooms and blow them up.___Come again?_ Alecto questioned with a tone of alarm in his voice. __ take photographs and develop them myself, I__e got my own darkroom_ it was a joke,_ Mandy laughed. __ love photography and I__ gonna be a photojournalist someday.___eally?_ Alecto asked. For the first time since she__ met him, he sounded slightly enthusiastic. __I take photographs and I film my own home movies, I have a darkroom as well_ but I can__ be a photojournalist like you_ I can__ be anything_ still, at least I can take photographs, it__ fun.