I have only seen biographies written for people who've accomplished something in their lives. I, however, seem to have been unable to come into this opportunity so far in life. It doesn't matter, I suppose if I do or not. There are so many people on the world, and most important things have been done already. Where does that leave me? The same place we are all left: Feeling a little hollow, and a bit cold in a harsh world. All we can do is come together, face our collective fears, and know that the only truly important things we could ever do lie in the simplest place: Our very own lives.
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Orders shouted in a strange guttural tongue resounded along the walls of the houses, which seemed dead and deserted, while, behind the closed shutters, eyes watched the conquerors, who, by right of war, were now masters of the city and of the lives and fortunes of its people.
In their darkened ruins the inhabitants have given way to the same feeling of panic which is aroused by natural cataclysms - those devastating upheavals of the Earth, against which wisdom and strength alike are of no avail.
Though the same feeling is experienced wherever the established order of things is upset, when security ceases to exist, when all that was previously protected by the laws of man and nature is suddenly placed at the mercy of brutal, unreasoning force.
The earthquake, burying a whole people beneath the ruins of their houses; the river in spate, sweeping away the bodies of drowned peasants, together with the carcasses of cattle and rafters torn from roofs; and the victorious army slaughtering all who resist, making prisoners of the rest, looting by right of the sword, and thanking their god to the sound of cannon.
All these are terrifying scourges which undermine all our belief in eternal justice and all the trust we have been taught to place in divine protection and human reason.
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Anyone over the age of 15 has probably noticed (and been annoyed by) the fact that I type the way I speak. Y'know, puttin' the weird ol' spelling on things, throwing the occasional regional dialect at ya. That kinda stuff. Why do I do that? 'Cause I wanna give this profile flavour and personality. I want you all to slip ever so slightly into my realm of thought, and I hope I've been able to do so by making this profile read in the wave pattern that I think in. Or something like that.
So, YES, I do know how to spell and crap like that. My vocabulary and spelling abilities are quite exemplary, as a matter of fact. But that doesn't mean I have to use 'em. ;)
Now I may do a REAL mistake on this page; use an "it's" when I should have done "its" or something like that. If you stumble upon an error like this, let me know, 'cause I'm sure all the world's nitpickers would sleep a little easier at night knowing that I used syntax on my profile correctly.
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Hey, I'm not a lumberjack, or a fur trader... and I don't live in an igloo or eat blubber, or own a dogsled... and I don't know Jimmy, Sally or Suzy from Canada, although I'm certain they're really, really nice.
I have a Prime Minister, not a President. I speak English and French, not American. And I pronouce it about, not a boot.
I can proudly sew my country's flag on my backpack. I believe in peace keeping, not policing. Diversity, not assimilation, and that the beaver is a truly proud and noble animal. A toque is a hat, a chesterfield is a couch, and it is pronounced 'zed' not 'zee', 'ZED'!
Canada is the second largest landmass! The first nation of hockey! And the best part of North America!
My name is Salinthos and I am Canadian!
