Yet again you dig yourself an even deeper hole with the pale green spade of envy. How carelessly you blunder all over the place, squawking and gesticulating like some sort of deranged Harris. And then, when all else has failed, you bring religion into the discussion, desperately trying to justify your blasphemous lifestyle with cries of hypocrisy and feeble pleas to my own (so-called egotistical) self-glorification ceremonies. I have very little to add to my previous statements, my friend. All I would say is that Christ loves you, despite what you might think. All He wants is a relationship with you, but unless you choose to accept Him into your life, you'll never get to know true happiness. I'll pray for you.

You would be too, if they paid you for it, like how they pay him. Horus8, is a figment of some poor lost child’s mind on the plane of say Peter Pan. A defense mechanism gone horribly out of control. He doesn't sleep, doesn't eat. Rests fully clothed sitting or standing. Is fearless, godless, and undeniably psychic. A soul so old you can't shake it from your mind for days, weeks, sometimes forever. That one mutated gene that Darwin slept on for a lifetime. I've seen him enter a room and within 30 seconds be able to break the entire environment down into, I don't know, programs, formulas, codes of operating the room that he's developed to survive and entertain himself, even down to what spots are better to sit and stand in. Who to trust, who's dangerous, who he could love, who would love him, who's in control, who's not, what might happen if scenarios. I've seen him spontaneously bite people, blatantly imitate them to themselves, seduce, connect, humiliate, expose, enchant, hypnotize. Horus8 is strikingly scary at times, and other times the ultimate companion in everything. Once, I asked him how he did it (poet, father, teacher, writer, comedian, prostitute, drug addict, alcoholic, actor, singer, painter, sculptor, anthropologist, psychologist, historian, collector, director, producer, giver, taker, dreamer, elitist, Mason at the 33 degree) He stared at the wall as if he missed the question, then about two minutes later, out of no where, he says that he'd forgotten, there was a beat and then we just cracked the fuck up, but I've heard different rumors. Here's a short quick list I've compiled from memory.

You will find the rest of this comment posted as a recent under the title "Gordian knot" enjoy.

oh please, SupremeDreamer. This isn't about who wins and who loses. Nobody has campaigned with greater diligence, or honesty, for more maturity on this site than me. Given that all I'm trying to do is help others be more mature, in the same way that I help myself to be more mature, can't you see that I have already won? You, on the other hand, appear to be indulging in some sort of childish foray into poetry, never pausing to think about the consequences of your actions, all the while mocking respected institutions such as the maturity award, and repeatedly punctuating your puerile outbursts with juvenile utterances like "feces", "fart", "balls" and "shitty brown"