September 2, 2009
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I can view the green lands before me. Mylo plowing the fields, waiting for dinner. Chief quoud dead, thousands of his followers now exposed ‘bite the thing!’ ‘save the eggs!’ ‘bite the thing!’. Crowof, sweeping across the sea, fresh food in his talons. How it swam, it struggled. It was worth fresh whale. Seas of flame burning the water, creating new rock, liquid formations that never move. sissss!, crash! , boosh! The power is mine, I control the island, the king has a magical sword! No, but minotaurs attack from the east, no way to stop them! He will defend the world! Whyn o of of dcourse now!! Aaaarg! Confounded locker!

The universe is infinite, gargantuan, in my head. Earthquakes crashing, great mountains blocking off the northern lands and a tiny field mouse carelessly carries off a piece of grain home. Mighty king gothlash executes 300 peasants with a wave of his hand as zobe quietly hums to himself taking in the sweet barn air. Standing atop mount cann, the rolling mountains flowing hills, frozen streams, sparkling lakes danced in his wake. even as beautiful, horrible, gigantic, sparkling , warm, brilliant, supernatural , fantastic events are occurring, slowden simply plods along only worrying about receiving his ration of hey.

Proffesser phiddwiddle was busy writing “yellow lights and purple blooms will eventually die.” To be bothered about the huge, black thundercloud looming in the distance. As was kittypuns who was busy stalking the ferocious mouse.not even jov, the puma noticed the hunter,grath, behing him. he was busy too busy hunting the pesky der, chrohough. who ,as it happens, was perplexed, staring at a thistle with a strawberry inside. which, was using this time to grow. no, the clouds didn’t care.

I have the power of growth, the yellow daisy, destruction, the dead gothen kingdom, speech, laughing in the zon pub, life, the baby shrew being born,and thought, folen strategizing. The control is my own, to pleasure and revel in, a plaything, which never gets old. A place where I designed the creatoven ruins, the fancov spire. Only I control the pass of mozuvian. The slightest grain of sand falling to the ground is my toy. Rivers of light dancing in the sky,waves bashing, builder of the quolen falls, archetect of the golaps caynon, mine to command, to control.

However, it grows, changes, evolves. The grethens will destroy gothen even if i do not wish it. I built grethens, powerful, warloving folk, an put in command forvain. even though gothen was to be my finest work, I did not stop them. they live.

A baby shrew being born, bite the thing save the eggs! hunting crashing growing, building, destroying, shout.

my world is never complete.

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