The puppet boy closed his eyes as his masters toyed with him, plucking his strings to make him dance. Had his painted on smile not faded from his oak finish long ago, it'd have frowned in pain and sorrow... Yeah, a weird excert from a written piece by me. It's about a feeling I'm having trouble shaking. I don't mean to complain or sound pitiful, but between my crush, Katrina, and feeling like a puppet to those I love and care for...I really feel like the only way I can smile is to paint it on. *sighs* At least I've got a couple good friends to turn to and my art. *yawns* Damn, Bell is right. I am talking less and less these days. I don't know why. I had originally acredited it to the fact that in my last month or so of thinking I don' want people to concieve me as a dimwit anylonger....or at the very worst...that I may say something, yet again, that someone can't return without a tear of sorrow. It feels like I'm crawling my way into a deep cave and the entrance is slowly closing behind me. Something in me is calling out for something more, but I'm not worthy for what it desires. *shakes head, putting on the usual grin* Alright. Enough from me. None of you need to hear my venting anymore. Lol... Later, guys and gurls.