Blank Slate [1]

8点∀ Blank Slate

The black and white. The white and black. The black and white.

The white and black. The black and white. The white and black.

Which came first, the light or the darkness? Everyone claims to know something but if all is the pen and all is the page then wasn't the canvas always stained with one or the other? Even then, is that a good answer or do I write in the same sense of those who think they know everything? Do I... know... everything?

Sammy begins as does Yaldabeoth. Bout to bout, round for round, battle in battle. Sammy leads the {Instants} and Yaldabeoth the [DoTs].

As if every stroke of a pencil were that of a grey leading to be what the idea of beginning really meant. Grey lines actually know they are grey lines but darkness and light even black and white don't like to admit what they have to hide. Mechanics, mechanics, mechanics...

A mechanism of how this works as we start from scratch to analyze why the world we live in now is so messed up as the borders of a blank room with homunculus-like creatures bearing one eye, to the other end of the darkness where roam a species of cat-like humanoids with three eyes. Both race are full of fierceness. Wether sneaky or direct, they always send their best to go into an all out war with the other... and who will come out on top? It always ends... in a tie...

When will we die? Or... When will we finally get to... live...