Rowan Finley

From karaoke singing and rejected covers. You didn't give up. Your heart recovers. Your acclaim wasn't instantaneous,

You fear going crazy...don't you? You want to deny it, but you can't. You don't know why you do the things you do. You cannot fathom the mysteries of your own mind.

As the door closed, their eyes locked onto one another and the rest of the world faded into nothingness. Without hesitation, their lips collided and splashed into a wild, cannibalistic dance for two.

Run, just as fast as you can. You can't catch me, I'm the fast man! Speed and chase. My shoes have long since been laced.

They knew no limits and had no permits for the things they desired, but forward into life they conspired, transpiring beyond all preconceived notions of those around them. What did they care? Their share in the world was all that mattered and no flattery could persuade them to walk down any other path. They'd been grafted into something greater because it was a bolder tone that they played with the instruments inside their minds. The best kind of sounds were the ones that were free and unhindered. Like bartender gone rogue, if that is even a thing, or a sensible comparison. They made it their own thing, bringing ideas to the world that were only known as shades of possibility before. And yet there were greater things in store, but it took toilsome work; like walking from door to door, hoping to get a bite from someone interested in the greater ideas and holistic plans and ideas laid out for humanity.

Why'd they have to kill Piggy? They started out with order and rules, then slowly, but surely they started acting like fools.