It's really so much fucking easier just to listen to Bal-Sagoth and daydream about being an Robert E. Howard-esque (anti-)hero than it is to accept my life as it is.

That said, I wouldn't trade who I am, or where and when I am, for anything. Or would I? Maybe if some kind of extradimensional entity appeared to me and could credibly offer me the chance to be someone/something else, I'd take them up on it, but even when I'm incredibly high, such a thing has never happened. Either I need to do more drugs or write more. I vote for writing, even though drugs are speedier.

Wow, that last comment sounded like something King Kuranes probably wrestled with before he transcended worldly bounds to become the lord of Celephais. Not that I'm getting my hopes up.