Faction Before Blood.

I Am Fed Up. I Am Fed Up With Tears And Weakness. But There Isn't Much I Can Do To Stop Them.

It's Not That I Ever Sat Down And Outlined A Trilogy, But I Always Have A Sense Of What Size An Idea Is When I Start It.

I Will Be My Undoing, If I Become My Obsession. I Will Forget The Ones I Love, If I Do Not Serve Them. I Will War With Others, If I Refuse To See Them. Therefore, I Choose To Turn Away From My Reflection, To Rely Not On Myself But On My Brothers And Sisters, To Project Always Outward Until I Disappear [and Only God Remains.]

I See A Few Hands Stretching Out To Me At The Edge Of The Net, So I Grabbed The First One I Could Reach And Pull Myself Across. I Roll Off, And Would Have Fallen Face-first Onto A Wood Floor If He Had Not Caught Me. "he" Is The Young Man Attached To The Hand I Grabbed. He Has A Spare Upper Lip And A Full Lower Lip. His Eyes Are So Deep-set That His Eyelashes Touch The Skin Under His Eyebrows, And They Are Dark Blue, A Dreaming, Sleeping, Waiting Color.

Independent And Uninvolved. Must Be Nice. -tris