And lo I sit in this world I have created.  My constructs whirl about my like leaves in a storm.  Filling the void with their chattering and clanking.  They are my creations.  My creativity made manifest.  It is the act of transcribing my soul onto the page that breathes life into them.  Pulling these figments from the ether and breathing life into them for all to see.

My soul laid bare on the page.  I can feel the gaze of the fates upon me as I put pen to paper.  Six eyes bearing down on me.  Staring at my future.  Possible destinies strewn out before me like yarn on living room floor.  A jumbled mass of ups, downs, twists and knots.  The mind reels when attempting to view it.  Trying to impose order upon the chaos.  Creating a conspiracy out of coincidence.