The assorted collections of crap that accumulates in a boring life.

Now with a photograph-based rambling section! 
Not a blog, mind you (WEB LOG, you tarts.), because on a blog, 
you get to share your useless opinions. 
Nobody here is even going to pretend to want to hear that.

So, I am Hatch. 

Thomas. 

iNFp, the Idealist Healer. Turtle. Cougar. Shy flirt. Penguin. Defender of the Faith. Schizotypcal: Very High. C/G Ranger/Thief. The lifepath 4. The false face to the world. 

How can I be three animals at once? How many internet personality tests should a person take, anyway? 

It's called a change-over. Your dreams change, your life keeps going... And nobody in the audience has a clue, not that they'd care anyway.

Not even me... and it's my life.

Reach down my throat and find something strange and useless:

The picture part which is probably the only thing here that's vaguely interesting.

Learn stuff about me! Oooooohhh.....

A long rambling thing, closely resembling a rant on no apparent subject. A work in progress.

Old gaming stuff:

The Modern world has arrived, and it very quickly lost it's direction, became confused, ran to northern fucking Saskatchewan, and collapsed in on itself.

Dungeons & Dragons stuff, from several games. 06/26/02 was the final update.

TRELL The D&D campaign that at one point I ran online, for a few Villagers. Long since over, I leave the material as a reference to remind myself I once could create, and because I one day wish to revive my gaming career.

Shadowrun collected materials from my longest past choice of games.

Assorted rambling, short stories, and poetry:

Here is what happens when interesting circumstances conspire to keep me offline and at home for seven days. It's not pretty. It's not even interesting.

A D&D reflective written Saturday, February 3rd, 2001.

The Unwashed Village.. once almost more of a home for me than the one I live in, but like many societies its vision eventually started to fade, and it fell to conflict. Risen and fallen, split too far in some cases to fathom, I still post at the forums. Also, part of my deep hatred of my physical home has faded somewhat.

Why did I feel the need to make a webpage. Typical and self-indulging drivel.

Some day lost A dark, depressing poem I wrote. It is about me. You probably won't be able to get me to explain it. In the long lost beautiful yellow and black of the forum on it was first posted. Classic UV.

Untitled 1 This is a love poem. Swear to god.... yes I wrote it. Do shut up.

Untitled 2 erf... I wrote it when I was border lining suicidal again. I can't explain.

Untitled 3 Paradise lost. Not the novel. Somewhere between sui and just socio.

Twitch A short originally plotless (usually doomed to be short when I do that) story about a man in an old, dirty apartment.

This link has been a long time in coming. People like Dawn-Marie get killed, and that's what it is, every day. It's here to remind people to think about what you're doing. Don't be an asshole.

Oh, and mail me if you see something broken or anything I should change or have any suggestions for new additions.

All of your problems are caused by invisible tiny people. To eliminate all of your problems, all you have to do is find them all and kill them.