[b:e6da27061a]M[/size:e6da27061a][/b:e6da27061a]y mind is a cluttered wasteland. Haphazardly strewn cities dream of shapes and colors that can never be. All around is the ever present whiteness, the all compassing nubilous atmosphere I call, with lack of a better word, my home. In a far off niche stands a gray tower. It holds my past, my present and my future. The base is barred. The body is impassable. The crown is invisible.[/color:e6da27061a]