Bliss Needs Visitor Messaging


Tamer Of The LOLzilla
In what world is it fair that you get to write to me but I don't get to write to you? That's like a deaf person shouting abuse at passers by! He gets his say but he'll never hear the responses!


Epic Gamer
Is this a dagger which I see before me,
The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee.
I have thee not, and yet I see thee still.
Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible
To feeling as to sight? Or art thou but
A dagger of the mind, a false creation,
Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain?
I see thee yet, in form as palpable
As this which now I draw.
Thou marshal'st me the way that I was going,
And such an instrument I was to use.
Mine eyes are made the fools o' the other senses,
Or else worth all the rest. I see thee still,

And on thy blade and dudgeon gouts of blood,
Which was not so before. There's no such thing:
It is the bloody business which informs
Thus to mine eyes. Now o'er the one half-world
Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse
The curtain'd sleep; witchcraft celebrates
Pale Hecate's offerings; and wither'd Murther,
Alarum'd by his sentinel, the wolf,
Whose howl's his watch, thus with his stealthy pace,
With Tarquin's ravishing strides, towards his design
Moves like a ghost. Thou sure and firm-set earth,
Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for fear
Thy very stones prate of my whereabout,
And take the present horror from the time,
Which now suits with it. Whiles I threat, he lives;
Words to the heat of deeds too cold breath gives.
[A bell rings]​
I go, and it is done; the bell invites me.
Hear it not, Duncan, for it is a knell
That summons thee to heaven, or to hell.


Epic Gamer
He who walks not in the light, knows not the harshness of it's glare. He who walks in the darkness knows evermore the dampening gloom of night's demand; succumb not to it's needs, lest the weary man becomes that which hath no mind. His insanity shall lie with the baying of the wolf, the cry of the jackal, the scream of the eagle; yet not with such mundane accomplices does he travel. Nay, he converses now with beings beyond the simple senses of Humanity - entities of neither this plane nor the next, but that place which lies within his own mind.

The omen cometh, and thou art helpless against it's fury. O inescapable agony; haunt me now and be done with me!

~ Chaos​