Writing So Go Ahead.

[Mitch]

Just another face
In a crowd
I walk
What is this sound?
I feel it
All around
I try to
Have something left
To hold onto
Something left to say
But I find
It is all much like
A crumpled piece
Of paper of trash of rubbish
In a garbage
Bin

I do not
Like being cared
For
I do not
Like being here
Every day is
A brand new day
With me
Walking about
Wondering what
It used to feel
Like

I push it all away. . .
I'll push it all away
I will
Push
It
All
Away
Give it
All Away
Throw it
All Away
Make it
Go Away
See it gone

I never
Want to be
Like you
I never want
To be like you who
Smiles at this world
I never want
To be like you
You who
Smiles
At
This
World
Your smile
On your lips
Is a contrived
Happiness
Your smile
On your lips
Is fake
It does not exist
I know, I do
What you feel
Deep down
You can hide it
Say life is
Beautiful, wonderful
Eternal, great
You can tell me
You have will to live
But deep down
There is shaking
There is destruction:
Beyond our poised appearance
We are out of
Control

And I
Am another face
In the crowd
Another waste
Of time

I can feel
Everything die
For we are
But a blink
Of an eye
We are but
Dust in the wind. . .
We are but
A place where it begins
Our place
In this universe
Is the smallest
And you the smaller
And I the small
We go about
Our ways
Thinking we make
A difference
When we do not make
A difference at all

I want to see a certain breeze touch the lips of mine
I want to see a certain disease
poison all this wine
I want to see a certain sting
open up the inside
I want to see a fallout
of a world gone in time.
The end is all I see
The beginning is far away
I have stayed here too long
I have outweighed my stay

One day
This race of mankind
Will find itself
At its end
It will find
That this long dredge
Has ended
In apocalypse
In an armaggedon
And if I were alive then
I would smile and greet death warm
For on this world, we plague about--
A swarm
And we live this existence
For this world we have called born
And it is not the real world, but the world torn
Divided to function as a machine
To not live life to all it has
It is here I find there is nothing
Left for me
What I need is an end
I need release
I need to be set free

I care not about this world
I care not to let it govern me
I would just as soon be set free
Or never even be
Or have to see
For it is blinding me

One day
--I see it flash before my eyes--
Our race
Will be gone, forever
Our struggles for nothing
But death.
And I think
In this world today
There is something more important
Than that education
Than that bill that needs to be paid
Than that job that they say you need to work
It does not have to be this way
This world is superficial, material,
It is a neon distraction
Open up your eyes--open them wide
Do you not surmise
That you live your life not for yourself
But for that which you most despise?

And one day
--Our race,
our mankind--
For our struggles,
for our battles,
we will die.
If I am alive
When it happens
I will smile
The most happy
Smile I have
Ever smiled
Upon my face
In my memory.
It would be as
real as a child's smile.
It would not be
A smile such as
The one I see
From you who
Is happy with this
World.

So go ahead
Worry about tomorrow
While I worry about the end
So go ahead, worry about how
You're going to afford to live
While I see that life is a given right
And should not be taxed, should not be
Suffered, should not be a machine.
I hope one day
You will come to see
And believe
How useless your life was
How you threw it away
To this status quo,
this endless go
At nothing.

So go ahead
Worry about petty things--
About getting your college degree,
About getting your "love."
For in this world,
there is little happiness.
There is only
Contrived
Happiness,
A figment,
A lie.
There is only love
Where you are blind.
Love is not real,
It is only in your mind.
The only thing real
Is that your body
Is an organic
Mortal,
Breakable
Weak
Puny
Existence.
What your body gives you
And shows you
Is all you will ever know.
And I, I want to go beyond
This body, I want you to know
That what you feel doesn't matter.
It is just an illusion.
This pain is all an illusion,
the only thing that is real is nothing.
In nothing there is the most beauty.
Nothing is what came you,
and nothing is what will take you
back to where you came from.

So go ahead
Go right
Ahead
Fret over
Anything
Over everything
In this society, this unreal world,
this hell-hole over your eyes.
So go ahead
I'm just gonna close these eyes
And yearn for death to release me
To take it all away.

Death might hurt,
But I am not afraid.
It will not hurt
As much as
This world
Has hurt me.
Nor will it hurt
As much as living
My whole life
Would.
And will.

I'm just gonna close these eyes
Gonna hide. . .
Just gonna close these eyes
and hide.

Why was I given this life
When I just want to take it away?

[Annie]

[color=darkslategray][size=1][font=Lucida Sans Unicode]Beautiful. Absolute. Amazing. I love how you staggered the words and sentances. It gave the poem a beat, almost like a fast song..well, how I read it anyway. It left my eyes to wander down the page.

Wonderfully done.[/color][/size][/font]

[Brasil]

[QUOTE=Mitch]Why was I given this life
When I just want to take it away?[/QUOTE]Go for it. Do us all a favor and just do it. You're obviously never going to be happy on any level at all, and you love to wallow in self-pity, always angry with the world, never able to connect with anybody on any real level, so why not just go through with it? Why are you unable to end that which you despise?

Regarding the poem, very eh. You've beaten that subject to death and that was a long time ago, Mitch. It's time to move on and develop new material.

Angst/anger/sadness/regret/pain gets you nothing--at least, the way you write about it. I think one work that would help you immensely in showing you how to handle sadness and pain is..."Fat Girl," I believe. The author's name escapes me at the moment, but it's a short story about a hideously overweight girl coping with her misery. Read it.

EDIT: Also, try writing sometime other than 5 in the morning, because nobody writes coherently at 5 am.

[Mitch]

[size=1][color=red] I think you need to go to a page in this forum: the one titled constructive criticism. You have to give the good with the bad. This poem isn't so terrible that you can't give me some positive feedback about it. But, as evidenced, the poem's message, and other issues with me, blind you from actually giving that.

Just because you believe life's something different than me doesn't mean you can't read this poem and get something from it. I may have beat this subject to death, but I cannot help what I feel, Alex, and I need to write my feelings down so I can remember them. If there's something wrong with that, then I guess that makes it okay for you to endlessly write off everything I write.

In the end, I don't care what you think. Obviously, this poem must be good for the reply above yours to have what feedback it gave. You're just too hubrant to care. And in the end, what matters the most is that I like this poem, and I feel it's quite honest and coherent in what it's saying (despite having been written at 4 AM, as you seemingly point out as diminishing its coherence).

I think I have a gift with words, and I will continue to pursue it. It's people like you that seemingly don't understand, and cannot, because they're so set on what they believe is correct, that it impedes and stymies them from really seeing good writing when it's there.

You've been here before, Alex. There's another side to everyone, and I believe that this is the most true side of me. I cannot help what I feel, and the least I can do is express it. But expressing it, to you, is a bad thing apparently.

All you have to do is be dignified, Alex. Be civil. Put our petty differences aside and look at this poem, do not just write it off as you have. For all you've said of thinking outside of the box, you're still stuck in your own box, unable to come out of it. Life is not all happy, nor is it as extremely sad as this poem portrays. But what this poem says, rather, is that our existence is futile. That in the long run, our lives do not matter for the bigger picture. That is true, if you think about it, that our lives are a waste of time.

But the main thing life isn't, or is, is what you think it is. Sure, to you what you think life is is what you think it is, but it's not like that to everyone. Show some empathy. Even though you're at a different understanding of what life is, that doesn't mean you haven't felt this before. You're a human, you feel, thus you have felt a wide brim of different feelings. You must have felt this sometime. You may even feel it sometimes now. There is a different way to see everything, and to me, this is the truest.

I understand your approach to life. . .I don't disagree. I feel empathy. I'm not so stuck-up that I don't respect what you believe life is. And from what I see, you are. You cannot come to cope with other's feelings in a well enough manner. It's all about what Alex thinks and what Alex believes, and what others say you must throw in their faces, because what they feel isn't what you feel, and what you feel is all that matters, and all that is. It's not like that. You need to look past your inner feelings, what you believe, what you think is, and come to an understanding of other's feelings, and what they believe, and why. You need to respect these feelings, and, although perhaps not agreeing with them, accept them--feel empathy about it, on some level. You cannot just write all else away. You aren't some omniscient being, some omnipotent being. You need to be more open. Don't force what you believe is truth on other people in a way that's condenscending, that makes you look hubrant, that makes you appear that you're having a holier-than-thou attitude. Say what you say with dignity, understanding that it isn't an absolute thing, but just what you think.

So try and think outside the box, Alex. Read between the lines. See what this poem says instead of just giving me your same old run around that you give me with everything I write. And mainly, open up your mind and see that, although I've used this subject many times, it is quite relevant. This is speaking of life. It is speaking of it in bare bones fashion. There's something to learn from it. [/size][/color]

[Brasil]

Let me ask you, Mitch, do you honestly believe what you just replied with? Here's what I think is really going on here:

You are so concerned with being an individual that it is clouding your cognition. You are letting a desire to be different rule your life. Did you ever hear the phrase, "Says so much but says so very little"? Mitch, I'm not the one limiting myself here. You are limiting yourself, by insisting on keeping yourself in the box. You see, I've achieved something you have not yet achieved.

I've already been on the outside of the box, and I've seen how the box works, so now I'm able to go back into the box and work within the system, not against it. You see, you're treating the outside of the box as something to assist you in a battle. It's not. Thinking outside the box is a way to, say it with me, [i]step back[/i] from a situation. You have never been able to step back from a situation. You may think you have, but you haven't, and here's why.

You still treat the world as the enemy. You still treat the world as Death. That's not how it is at all. Only teenagers with a chip on their shoulder think like that.

"I am deep because I am dark."

That's your entire worldview summed up in one sentence.

[Guest Midnight Rush]

Well animefangirl47 or whatever it is, you are right in one sense. I've read some of his stuff, and it is pretty dark...often. But you are really comparing two very fundamentally different things:

A. Mitch's worldview- Which may or may not be darker than a dark thing

&

B. The poem itself, which is merely an expression of current feeling, and regardless of your opinion of its technical/contentual (is that a word? lmao) quality, it is still a means of "expression".


The problem is, whether you realize it or not, you are amalmagating your perception of his world view and the somewhat pessimistic poem. In terms of worldview, yea Animefangirl is right, Darkness does not vary directly with depth or vice-versa. In my opinion, which of course is just that, darkness/brooding only precipitates an immature perception of reality.

From a optomistic mathematical perspective we can equation it is follows:

x-darkness levels in a person

y-actual substantial depth and correct perception

y=x/50 (50 over x.... x varies inversely with y)

That aside, think about this: from your very own post you claim that he loves to wallow in self pity. THAT MAY BE WHAT MAKES HIM HAPPY! My goodness, you aren't writing coherently are you? From your own perspective, can't you see taht a self destructive anti-human time bomb could be this guy's place in the human hierarchy?

Just because you and I may think that life is worthwhile, and that it is worth living, and that people aren't mindless suppressive monsters doesn't give us ammunition for a war against the conforming to individualism deal... geez. It is a weak philosophy, but for the sake of society it should be given room to expand until it collapses. I am entirely sure that most of the suical darkness types will someday discover the value of their own race... Yes humans are lying, murdering, adultering, thieving, blasphemus scum... but we have our good points...Such as love, philanthropy, compassion, security, ect.

I will bet 45 to 1 that this is just a rather long and drawn out phase.. that he certainly would not smile to see his mother/father, siblings, aunts uncles, grandparents, cousins, friends, ect. be exterminated. It is sort of a wax/wane angst thing, and of course you are right, nothing that has substantial value can come of it, but I say let him have his psuedo tangible glory in hellish places happiness. Who knows, maybe he actually has be wronged by society, instead of just being held accountable for certain standards? Tsk tsk tsk... you and I will never know.

Mitch- In terms of the poem itself, I don't really subscribe to the death and societal oppression deal, but it's pretty good.

Pro's- Fluidity, contextual structure, excellent word patterns... you are right, you do have a gift for words, and you should keep pursuing it.

Con's- For a non-biased judgement, its kinda long. Thats it.

8/10


P.S. It is 4 AM LMAO!!!!

[Brasil]

Undefeated, I strongly advise you to think about your post a bit more before you decide to post it. It sounds incredibly rambly and hyper. Well, the hyper part I can understand. It's 4 am where I am, too, and I'm wide-awake.

Now, you ask how I am able to reconcile Mitch's worldview with this poem, true?

[QUOTE]Why was I given this life
When I just want to take it away?[/QUOTE]
The very last two lines of the poem. I'm not sure how long you've known Mitch, or how often you've talked to him, but Mitch thinks himself as a Nihilist, more or less. Agent Smith from The Matrix is one of his heroes, apparently, right, Mitch?

Nihilism is the obsession with Nothingness, an obsession with the end. To the Nihilist, there is no point to living, because Death is all there is. If you read through Mitch's MyOtaku, you will see this Nihilistic, defeatist worldview become very, very clear.

Now, examine those two lines. There is no distinction at all between what those lines mean and what Mitch's worldview entails.

Regarding the Individualism point...one can be an individual and still work within the system. I know because I do it. I am my own person but I still am able to adhere to structure, and it is because of this understanding of how the system works that I am able to achieve success. I don't fight the system; I work with it.

You see, Mitch has taken that Individualism and turned it into a "fight the world because it will rape me" Ideology. If you look through his MyOtaku, you will find various poems that are rather heavily focused on the rape of the self at the hands of the world. In fact, I seem to recall an "Alex Rapes" poem a while back.

Undefeated, let me ask you, who [i]hasn't[/i] been wronged by society?

[Mitch]

[size=1][color=red] Alex, realize I don't [i]always[/i] feel nihilistic. It's when I feel negative that I write most.

I thought Undefeated's post was quite enlightening, unlike your posts in this thread, Alex.

Regardless of what you think being an individual entails, Alex, my views on the subject differ in their defining. Just because I think the world's out to get me doesn't take a thing from you.

I also have yet to see some positive feedback on this poem from you, Alex.

And just as Undefeated said, it's an "expression" of a feeling at a certain time. Do you think I walk around feeling like this all the time? If you do, then I guess you do. I know I don't. I've written happier things before, such as the recently posted "Meety Your A Pock A Lips," which I thought was great fun. Also, so what if I think the world's taking away who I am? Alex, you don't even know my feelings, and why I feel this way, and how it feels, because you are a different person. How do you think you can just brush all of me aside and somehow think you know exactly how I feel and that I'm exactly wrong? You can't, and that is called twisting me to be what you want me to come out as, putting words in my mouth. Before you can just write off what I feel as petty, wrong feelings, you first have to try to feel what I feel as much as you can. And you can't, because you don't even know me, other than from what your conception of me has been from what you've pieced together here on the net. You don't know me, and thus you can't label me down or say, with absolute security, what's wrong with me, how I should feel, how I should be, and what I really am. I would hope you would have the decency not to do such a thing as that is, but it is apparent you can't and won't.

Obviously you didn't hear my first post to you on the subject of dignity, and other things. I've been trying to make you hear me for a while, but you just let the words hit not in the heart but in the ego. I don't even see a reason to digress any further on that point, or do it with you. Once playing possum with my words, always playing possum with my words.[/size][/color]

[Brasil]

[quote][color=red]Alex, realize I don't always feel nihilistic. It's when I feel negative that I write most.[/color][/quote]
So, then, you do see good in the world that isn't your own person? You do think there is value to life then? Careful here, Mitch.

[QUOTE][color=red]I thought Undefeated's post was quite enlightening, unlike your posts in this thread, Alex.[/color] [/QUOTE]
Why did you find his post enlightening and not mine? Perhaps because it was sugarcoated?

[QUOTE][color=red]Regardless of what you think being an individual entails, Alex, my views on the subject differ in their defining. Just because I think the world's out to get me doesn't take a thing from you.[/color][/QUOTE]
And it doesn't give you anything good, now does it, except for pain and sorrow. Mitch, think about this. Look what your obsession with being an individual has transformed you into: a bitter, annoyed, apathetic, burnt-out shell of a human being. I don't insult you here, either. Do you honestly believe that being bitter, annoyed, apathetic, and burnt-out is doing you any good whatsoever?

What I said regarding Individualism is how Individualism will [i]help[/i] you, not hurt you, because, Mitch, the way you've been utilizing Individualism is ruining your life.

[QUOTE][color=red]I also have yet to see some positive feedback on this poem from you, Alex.[/color][/QUOTE]
If I don't see any positives, do you honestly believe I'd make something up? Also, I thought you didn't care about what I've said here, and no matter what I say, it doesn't matter to you, so why bother mentioning my post at all? Why bother replying to me? Why, you may ask? Because you do care. Somewhere in you there is a part of you that wants to hear me out.

[QUOTE][color=red]And just as Undefeated said, it's an "expression" of a feeling at a certain time. Do you think I walk around feeling like this all the time? If you do, then I guess you do. I know I don't. I've written happier things before, such as the recently posted "Meety Your A Pock A Lips," which I thought was great fun. Also, so what if I think the world's taking away who I am? Alex, you don't even know my feelings, and why I feel this way, and how it feels, because you are a different person. How do you think you can just brush all of me aside and somehow think you know exactly how I feel and that I'm exactly wrong? You can't, and that is called twisting me to be what you want me to come out as, putting words in my mouth. Before you can just write off what I feel as petty, wrong feelings, you first have to try to feel what I feel as much as you can. And you can't, because you don't even know me, other than from what your conception of me has been from what you've pieced together here on the net. You don't know me, and thus you can't label me down or say, with absolute security, what's wrong with me, how I should feel, how I should be, and what I really am. I would hope you would have the decency not to do such a thing as that is, but it is apparent you can't and won't.[/color][/QUOTE]
Wait, let me get this straight. Simply because I live in New Jersey, and you live in Michigan, and we do not know each other at all in real life, I am unable to understand you at all?

A while back, I told you that I know exactly where you're coming from. Do you remember it? I've got the IM saved somewhere. Later today I'll find it and Edit in the excerpt. But, Mitch, I was once a Junior in high school, too, heavily interested in writing, both comedy and teen angst; I was defiant to the point of being rude to others trying to help me; I was upset about my life, I couldn't find joy in much of what I did; I went from happy to insanely depressed between Creative Writing and Journalism (Yes, that's right. JOURNALISM).

Mitch, back in my Junior year, [i]I was you[/i]. Hard to believe, right? It's the truth. That is why I'm able to sit here, in South Jersey, and tell you exactly what you're doing wrong, because I did it, and I know where it will lead, and I know that the destination will not be good [i]at all[/i].

You still think I have no idea what I'm talking about? You still think I have absolutely no idea what's going on inside your head?

[quote][color=red]Obviously you didn't hear my first post to you on the subject of dignity, and other things. I've been trying to make you hear me for a while, but you just let the words hit not in the heart but in the ego. I don't even see a reason to digress any further on that point, or do it with you. Once playing possum with my words, always playing possum with my words.[/color][/quote]
Quick question for you. You do know that "digress" does not mean "discuss," right? "Digress" means to go off on a tangent, to ramble, and I'm positive that's not what you were meaning when you used that.

Now, dignity is something that I use often, but not here, because frankly, when people use diplomacy with you, or even subtlety, I've noticed that you don't see it at all. No offence. And it should occur to you now that the reason I've been treating your words as useless is because I've used them in my Junior Year of high school and I know they have no purpose.

[Guest Midnight Rush]

Apparently your name is Alex... so I'll stick with it:


1. This is a thread about poetry...and I'm guilty here too so don't bite me. This has turned into an attempt a re-defining how Mitch thinks/percieves.... doesn't seem productive to me.

2. Why, exactly, does it bother you so much that he has a negative outlook on things? He may find my positive outlook revolting, and yet he doesn't feel the need to redefine it for me.

3. He might be a good friend of yours... and I really have no info here.... from what I can tell, your trying to save pain/time or whatever. But as far as I know, you can rarely learn things, like life experience things, from reading/conversation. To know what a hot stove is you gotta get burned... your mother can't keep you safe from it forever.

4. He doesn't seem self destructive so it probably won't hurt him in the long run... either way trying to deal with potential psyche problems on the OB seems a 'lil wierd to me...


By the way... I don't feel wronged by society... do you?

[Mitch]

[size=1][color=red] Sara lives in Michigan. Not I.

And I second what he says. I'll work through what's wrong myself. I'm glad I'm cynical, I wouldn't have it any other way. I never want to be positive like you. I will never attempt suicide like you did.

He's not a person I know, really. Just another face in this world.

And he's exactly right. This isn't about what we're even talking about. This is the internet, there is no reason to discuss this.

The reason why I reply is because it's fun to see how much I can play with you, and see how deep you can go into the holes I dig for you to claim. My words are a hunting dog, they are heightned with immaculate scent, and a bloodthirsty desire for hunks of flesh. They draw you towards the rabbit hole as the dog edges its proboscis over. Will you claim this hole? is the questioning glance from the dog. There's fresh meat down there, somewhere, in that hole. Who knows how deep it goes. But it's safe to say it goes deep.

I know what the word digress means. It means to go off on a tanget, rant, non sequitur. That's all this is here. It does not follow, it does not follow.

My words have no purpose because I have no purpose. Nothing is the purpose, and it serves me well. That's the problem. Just because you don't believe in what I believe anymore, you won't even listen to me, and you won't even give me dignity. Don't you see this is what I said? The irony is blooming. You cannot even give me enough respect to listen to my words. My words may be empty, but they strike a thing which has sustenence. They do have something to say. The words are a vessel to meet the end. And you cannot hear them, and my vessel is useless for you.

This is the truth for me, Alex. I see life as a skeleton, deep down, as my primal feeling, as the singular, anomalous thing that's crawling on down there. I look towards the end because in the end, my world ends, and this world goes on. And I see that my affect on this world is quite small. I find it's more fun to be negative about it than see it any other way. I find hilarity in this control. As a laugh finds breadth in the chest, I find breadth in what holds me in, too. What makes me tick and what makes me beat, like a heart, I find control.

This discussion is over. For time is a tick crawling in my skin, and I've got to go about festering over the day with it.

Alex, I'm not trying to redefine you, so why are you trying to redefine me? Again, you're being condescending to the fact that you cannot and will not give respect to my beliefs, to my purposes, to my feelings. You will not accept me for who I am, you are trying to change who I am, you think what you think is absolute--that it is the only correct thing to believe. This is a provincial approach. But I am done, continue being who you are, I shall continue being who I am, and so will the entire world, the status quo with it. [/size][/color]

[Brasil]

[QUOTE=Mitch][size=1][color=red] Sara lives in Michigan. Not I.

And I second what he says. I'll work through what's wrong myself. I'm glad I'm cynical, I wouldn't have it any other way. I never want to be positive like you. I will never attempt suicide like you did.

He's not a person I know, really. Just another face in this world.

And he's exactly right. This isn't about what we're even talking about. This is the internet, there is no reason to discuss this.

The reason why I reply is because it's fun to see how much I can play with you, and see how deep you can go into the holes I dig for you to claim. My words are a hunting dog, they are heightned with immaculate scent, and a bloodthirsty desire for hunks of flesh. They draw you towards the rabbit hole as the dog edges its proboscis over. Will you claim this hole? is the questioning glance from the dog. There's fresh meat down there, somewhere, in that hole. Who knows how deep it goes. But it's safe to say it goes deep.

I know what the word digress means. It means to go off on a tanget, rant, [i]non sequitur[/i]. That's all this is here. It does not follow, it does not follow.

My words have no purpose because I have no purpose. Nothing is the purpose, and it serves me well. That's the problem. Just because you don't believe in what I believe anymore, you won't even listen to me, and you won't even give me dignity. Don't you see this is what I said? The irony is blooming. You cannot even give me enough respect to listen to my words. My words may be empty, but they strike a thing which has sustenence. They do have something to say. The words are a vessel to meet the end. And you cannot hear them, and my vessel is useless for you.

This is the truth for me, Alex. I see life as a skeleton, deep down, as my primal feeling, as the singular, anomalous thing that's crawling on down there. I look towards the end because in the end, my world ends, and this world goes on. And I see that my affect on this world is quite small. I find it's more fun to be negative about it than see it any other way. I find hilarity in this control. As a laugh finds breadth in the chest, I find breadth in what holds me in, too. What makes me tick and what makes me beat, like a heart, I find control.

This discussion is over. For time is a tick crawling in my skin, and I've got to go about festering over the day with it.

Alex, I'm not trying to redefine you, so why are you trying to redefine me? Again, you're being condescending to the fact that you cannot and will not give respect to my beliefs, to my purposes, to my feelings. You will not accept me for who I am, you are trying to change who I am, you think what you think is absolute--that it is the only correct thing to believe. This is a provincial approach. But I am done, continue being who you are, I shall continue being who I am, and so will the entire world, the status quo with it. [/color][/size][/QUOTE]
Let me ask you a simple question, with a Yes or No answer:

Do you feel fulfilled?

[Charles]

[center][img]http://img11.imageshack.us/img11/4688/shutoffwebgore2.jpg[/img][/center]

This discussion is no longer about analyzing writing itself, but rather the writer. Which, of course is interesting to a point, but inappropriate considering the original intention of this discussion and the inevitable outcome I forsee taking into account the history of your previous conflicts.

[img]http://www.educnet.education.fr/svt/anim/bilpnf/groupe01/site01/eruption.jpg[/img]