It's been too long since I wrote one of my philisophical pieces of propoganda, so here goes.

Why do almost never pass up a chance to fight?

I believe that our mistakes make us mortal. Mortals are inherently weak, if you were to stop thinking and only act, you would either die. If you don't, then maybe, just maybe, you are perfect.

... in the battle, in the orgasm, as I write down my words in a rush of inspiration, their is a rush of action and a thoughtlesness that consumes everything else. I stop thinking, and only act, doing the very best that I can. I think the final goal for one such as myself is to reach some sort of moral nirvana, and to then become the perfect "Battle Angel". If Angels are perfect, then my theory could explain why so few of them every actually say anything. Battle Angel is a term of mine for something I probably have yet to fully achieve, that being perfection. Of course, constant perfect is impossible for me, but there are some moments which I look back on and those memories make me damn proud of myself. Of course, there aren't and never will be enough of those moments, but if I stay loyal to myself then I can look forward to more.

Zero

Penned by my hand on the 10th of Miraman, in the year 267 AF.