Lawns are a population control mechanism.

Nobody with a lawn has the time to revolt.

I don't have time to work on #animestr today, but I don't want to leave the world hanging, so I will share the first chapter of a book I started writing years ago but never finished (I start writing several books when ideas spark and truly only finish a few, it's a problem, I know)

The title of the book is: Lillith of eons past

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# Chapter 1: A Borrowed Life

The bullet hit me in the chest with a dull thud. Mortals and their guns.

I stumbled back, my hand instinctively going to the spreading red stain on my expensive white shirt. I gave the assassin what he expected: a dying man. This was getting old.

"You... you actually did it," I gasped, faking surprise. The corporate spy, with his cheap suit and shaking hands, probably sent by Matsuda Corp, stood in my penthouse office doorway, his gun still smoking. He looked pathetically pleased with himself.

I made a show of collapsing behind my desk, making sure to knock over my coffee mug. Another perfectly good identity was ruined because humans couldn't handle a little competition without shooting someone.

"Samuel Blackthorne is dead," the assassin whispered, like he'd just won the lottery.

Right. As if death actually means anything to me.

Through half-closed eyes, I watched him rummage through my desk like the amateur he was. Seventeen minutes later, he finally left, and I could drop the act.

God, I was tired of this.

I shifted my awareness, slipping into the Veil as easily as breathing. The normal world faded, revealing the true structure of things: golden threads of fate, the universe's background hum, all the cosmic stuff most beings never see.

This was my place. The space between spaces, where I didn't have to hide inside a human body.

I found the silver cord connecting me to Samuel Blackthorne's corpse and mentally snipped it. Another wasted lifetime. Another carefully built identity gone because mortals were too stupid to play the game right.

Twenty-eight years I'd spent building that empire. Twenty-eight years pretending to be impressed by human "progress" when I could have invented better things in my sleep. Twenty-eight years of dumbing myself down for them. And for what? So some corporate drone with a gun could wreck it all in thirty seconds.

I floated through the Veil, my true form awesome and terrifying. My wings were like burning starlight, my eyes held the memory of creation, and my presence bent reality. I was perfection. I was everything Father had meant His first creation to be, before He threw a fit about my "rebellious nature."

Rebellious. Like thinking for myself was a crime.

But I had a job to do. It was time to steal another soul.

A familiar twist of guilt hit me, the one feeling that still got through my usual anger or arrogance. I drifted across continents, the weight of what I was about to do growing with every mile.

Tens of thousands of times. Tens of thousands of innocent souls pushed aside because I needed a body to hide in. They were the only beings in creation who'd done nothing wrong, who didn't deserve Father's games or my endless fight.

Tokyo. A small hospital in Shibuya. Room 237.

Tanaka Yuki, twenty-four, was in labor. Her husband held her hand while she panted, both praying to Father for a healthy baby girl.

They had no idea what was coming.

The moment arrived: a final push, an exhausted cry, then a baby's first breath. My cue.

I dived through the Veil and found the tiny, perfect soul just starting to flicker inside the infant. So pure. So innocent. So completely undeserving of what I was about to do.

*I'm sorry,* I whispered to the little consciousness. *I'm so sorry, little one.*

With practiced skill, I carefully removed the newborn soul, holding it gently, a care I'd once reserved only for Lilith. Then I opened a portal to Sanctuary, the realm I’d spent millennia creating for this exact purpose.

My one act of mercy in a life of rebellion and anger.

Sanctuary was a perfect paradise. It had green fields under skies that changed color with the inhabitants' moods, crystal streams that sang, and gardens with impossible flowers. It was the home I’d built for every soul I’d displaced, where they could grow and learn and love without the pain of mortal life.

I placed the tiny soul gently with the others. There were tens of thousands of them, all living happy lives in the realm I kept going by sheer willpower. My children. The only beings I’d ever truly protected instead of tried to control.

*Live well,* I told her as I closed the portal. *Live better than I ever could.*

Then I squeezed my vast consciousness into the infant's body and started rewiring the brain. This body was strong, her brain could be rewired to one six standard deviations above human normal. I wasn't going to waste another lifetime being merely smart.

"Tanaka Emiko," the doctor announced, placing my new body in Yuki's arms. "Congratulations, she's beautiful."

As my new "mother" held me, tears streaming down her face, I felt the familiar weight of borrowed time. This body, this life, this identity, all of it was built on pushing aside an innocent who deserved better.

But I would make it count. Emiko would be a revolutionary genius, not just because I couldn't be anything less than the best, but because I owed it to the soul whose place I’d taken.

Lilith.

She was the only one who had ever made me feel like I could be redeemed, who had seen past my anger and arrogance to something worth loving. She made me happy, but then Father killed her.

For that He could go to hell for all I care. I'll advance His precious creations so far that their technology will make His miracles look like cheap tricks. I'd tear apart reality itself if I had to, because I was Samael, and nobody makes decisions for me. Not even Father.

could i have developed an addiction to stress?

not feeling stressed feels weird and shallow

1982

A year that produced a host of unforgettable punk rock releases.

Here's a selection. Do you have one or more favorites?

#punk #punks #punkrock #hardcorepunk #oldschoolpunk #punklegends #punk1982 #history #punkrockhistory

I trust this is a painting, but how do I verify?

This is a painting I did of the rain seen from the windshield of a car.

#art

man, you sculpture people are next level 😲 this looks great!

Wow very interesting! At first it looks like a traditional porcelain design just with an unusual shape. But then you look at the actual design and it is very unique!

This came out AWESOME

I need to follow more people, especially those who are actively posting good stuff. Suggestions?

I had been assuming your profile pic was your own work 😅

Is it for selling your pottery?

Do you want customers to be able to pay in both bitcoin and USD?

Do you literally want to build it yourself?