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Creativity starves insanity
Heat brings on the warping. Warping brings on paper with many folds and curves. Curves which never rid easily or ever effectively once here they be. Heat will make many things warp.
Jesus Christ, what a rag doll.
After all the build up, the plains are left in a state of wait. Nothing for those without the previous parts.
Slow and focused, a tale of an autistic savant. Perhaps. Or a boy doomed to die after being exposed on national television as a freak. Clarity on memory even less on back.
Pixellation of art proves distracting. Nothing moves fast and the speed of realisation collects a body on the bumper.
Acceptance of depression and an introspective lifestyle only means for more power in internal monologue. Plenty of that here, the melodrama and poetry of the self is rampant, explosive and as dire as it sounds like it should be.
Fantasy jumps up all over the place with round noses and fat fists of plump children. Though text rains all over the pages, the images are clear and friendly. Dually creepy and fascinating with goblins and creatures on an otherwise fragile and open mind.
Touch of the turns with realms breaking through here and there. Makes for a read that leaves wanting to know more and not in a way that has it dead.
Soon Van - Wednesday, 28 December 2005 - 15:41
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