“Oswega, after realizing his self to be alone, stopped playing and crawled to the shore; There, He began to weep. It was not that he couldn’t be alone, it was that His nature would no longer allow it. He is after all a creator, and a creator must, must, must create! Just as a painter must paint and a jogger must jog, Just as a Cat must climb and a dog must bark, a creator must be a maker.
His tears fell as liquid light, they bounced off of the ground and flew into the sky, laughing and playing, then zooming around Oswega! In awe and admiration of their creator, they sang out songs songs of praise to Him. And for a time Oswega’s need to create was subdued.”” —Monty West (Mandretheia)
Seek roses in December, ice in June;
Hope constancy in wind, or corn in chaff;
Believe a woman or an epitaph,
Or any other thing that ‘s false, before
You trust in critics.” —Lord Byron (1788-1824)