you know that feeling, when you've been an integral part of something, and then suddenly you're shunted to the side by an event, while once trivial or merely interesting, is now much more important than you are?
that's a bad feeling.
Some musings by your outlawpoet guide, with links, txts, and descriptions
"In the mirrors of many judgments my hands are the color of blood. I am a part of the evil that exists in the world and in Shadow. I sometime fancy myself an evil which exists to oppose other evils. I destroy Melkins when I find them, and on that Great Day of which prophets speak but in which they do not truly believe, on that day when the world is completely cleansed of evil, then I, too, will go down into darkness, swallowing curses. Perhaps even sooner than that, I now judge. But whatever... Until that time, I shall not wash my hands nor let them hang useless."
--Corwin "The Guns of Avalon" by Roger Zelazny
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