Sadistic Seme
Take Are you a Seme or an Uke? today!
Created with Rum and Monkey's Personality Test Generator.</p>

...I'd call that an accurate assessment...

i seem to have overtaxed myself slightly


i shall have to go out and waylay a con-artist or murderer or other such individual whose heart is steeped in the dark

i don't think i've ever been this hungry before. i've never allowed myself to get this hungry before. aagghh.

Do try to contain your whinging, 'DiZ'.

I have been - many places. Between the words, upon the great sea therein.

In the beginning, the worlds were without form, and void; and Darkness moved on the face of the deep.

It is not the force that is evil, but the way one uses it. One can use light to illumine or blind. One can use darkness to soothe or smother.

Consider the difference between a sword that guards and a sword that murders.

...There is much I have yet to learn. So many depths to plumb.

So much to do. So little time.

Poor Tiresias, the blind seer, is here~

Blind to so much, and yet called a sage. No hero, he, but destroyer of hopes and shatterer of hearts.

Poor stuffy alchemist king! He never could finish a thing he began. One can as soon stop a meteor with a toothpick then one can halt the process you started, poor exile.

One day you'll have to embrace your giult. I have done so. I know very well what I am. I know I am a sinner. I am the Dark, I am her hands and tongue. I am necessary annihilation, preceding rebirth. As Sora is Brahma, and Riku Vishnu, I am Shiva Nataraja.

Any who go into the dark are touched by it. Poor little old man who sees not the blessings She bestows upon him, open your eyes!

No blasted wonder you mucked everything up so much; what did you think would happen when you went against the will of a force of the universe? For a 'sage', you are a nit! At least I can admit I have much yet to learn. My pilgrimage, my crusade - it failed for a reason. That much I know.

Kingdom Hearts is Darkness.

Kingdom Hearts is Light.

Both dwell beyond the door. And the light is curiously warm!

What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow
Out of this stony rubbish? Son of man,
You cannot say, or guess, for you know only
A heap of broken images, where the sun beats,
And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief,
And the dry stone no sound of water. Only
There is shadow under this red rock,
(Come in under the shadow of this red rock),
And I will show you something different from either
Your shadow at morning striding behind you
Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;
I will show you fear in a handful of dust.

Reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated.