Stop, look! Behind you. There is a shape, and that shape is your shadow, not the one that follows you, but a wraith, a shade. Your doppleganger, do not look into it's face! Lest you are lost forevermore.

Beware the mirrorfolk! For they will come and reclaim this land. When you see a color, unlike any other color, it will mark their return to this world.

Time, is everything. Tomorrow is simply another part of a seperate unconnected part of time, that never will be. The past is a sphere of existence that'll never come again. But it always will be. It's foolish to speak of history, for our ancestors didn't exist in the same sphere as us. For that matter, we cannot say our ancestors ever existed. At least as we know it. To think of the past is everything, but to guess at what the past could have been like, is foolishness.

Isn't it amazing what strange beliefs pop up? To be honest I wonder such things, why were they believed? By who? I've been reading more apocryphal texts as of late, not the ones without real value and worth, but the ones that contain truths. King James' DAEMONOLOGY, Dante's The Inferno. All fascinating books about subjects far more important than what's happening lately. About subjects far more significant than this short brief moment of time we foolishly seem to care about. What use is life, when death is eternal? Why do people seem to care about a meer sixty, seventy years of their life, if it costs everything?

On a less serious note, why are people the way they are? If you look at dominant traits in humans, a completely dominant human would not look anything like "man" as we see him. His 'superior' genetic traits, that are arguably his original genetic traits include such things as six fingers, a tail, larger amount of hair on the entire body, movable ears, the "rat-face" dominant genetic trait that's shown itself in parts of India and the middle east, which, on a side note has been cited as a possible source of Marco Polo's dog-headed men he wrote of, being an extreme exageration of the "ratmen" of India. Why the hell do I think this is less serious? Silly Scrib.
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I say: 'This is the end of my spiraling tail of tepid funeral spires!'
He replies: 'Yes, and what a fine tail it is...'

At this the long tail was wrapped along the scrib's waist. The eyes of the master followed with a strange curiosity.

He speaks: 'A very long and fine tail indeed my young pupil, why dost thou keep it wound so, I ask thee?'
I reply: 'To keep out the ants'
In response: 'ah, that makes sense in a clime' such as this.'
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