What Time Doesn't Do

It Doesn't Heal!!!!!!!!!
I Chainz have sat in the shadows these dark summer months, I have watched through the gaps in hands that clasped my rage to my chest, forcing it to stay seething like a film reviewer forced to endure a Brendan Fraser marathon.
Despite words from my very hands just a short time ago, no more can I sit and grin like a buffoon whilst the two most villianous men/women/antelope on the planet continue to spill toxic bile all across the www.
This time there will be no quarter given

The Black Pit Of Ideas

It has been too long since I last visited my most Stygian of delights, upon deciding to dismiss my long standing battle with the horrors of Tumbleweed Memories I have found myself longing for a way forward, a way in which this blog can exist without my rage against Stairmaster and Zpiral. I find myself asking the question, is there in fact a place for Stygian Delights? If you find yourself here in the upcoming months I hope to see you, if not please do me a favour and steer clear of Tumbleweed Memories.

Why?

The potential of the potential is potentially inexplicable
It outweighs the actuality of the potential
Now the potential of that actuality must stay focused
For the potential to fail is greater, than the potential for potential actualities to succeed
The potential of it all scares me.

The Problem of Wasting Time In A Vaccum

Before you say, before you decry
I've been away a long time, with no apologies to cry.
This blog began of anger, of rage unstated
Against a Tumbleweed of Memories, against collaborators with egos inflated.
So many directions, a crossroads in typeface.
But the Stygian Delights fell in a dark place.
Not turning anger against those who wronged blogger.com
But churning venom inside like a poison of what's gone.
This shall no longer be, must no longer remain
Chainz has moved on, and nothing will ever be the same.