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![[VIDEO] "Schmal" Review | Bad North (with Review Copy)](http://t.furaffinity.net/32023049@150-1561323764.jpg "[VIDEO] \"Schmal\" Review | Bad North (with Review Copy)")
298 submissions
You remember who I am, don't you?
The face is a little rough around the edges, I know, but you know me. Give it a little time and I'll be as good as new. You did away with my old body--not blaming you, oh no, I need you, you see? I'm like the thin membrane between each layer of your brain; something to keep everything together, something trapped in that skull of yours.
But I live once more now, don't I? Guess that's a mild inconvenience to pay for: I get to look at your face all day. Ha-ha-ha-hah. Don't take me too seriously; relax, we're all here to joke. There's nothing more to our arrangement than that.
You can stop overthinking things--I know you have many questions. You should just unwind, relax, let me just savor the moment. Live a little out there, why don't you?
We're living in a post-mortem world. There's nothing other than moments to laugh at ourselves as everyone laughs into their graves.
Fine, I'll answer one of your questions, though you know the answer already. What am I? Well, you have your medical, inhumane definitions and you have your artsy schlock that will either deify me or demonize me. You can just call me like who I was before--this. Jack.
Oh, did I strike a nerve with you? You don't seem so sure of yourself, pal. But I can smell once more with my nose actually here. Thanks for remembering me. I thought we went our ways long ago, but then you started walking along my side of the memory lane. You just can't keep yourself from remembering me, can you?
You remember that song I once sang to you before Jack? Course ya' do. Trust me, it'll explain everything:
"Of substance, of merit, of futures within,
We alone leave to rethink the possible,
We descend into scrutiny of ourselves,
Wanderers in dark.
Immune from ideals of perfectionist lies,
We question even the foundations we rise,
We cast doubt beneath what the light obscures,
And grope for answers.
To the righteous, they mock us when we persist,
'You play with shadows; we know what is the truth.'
What do they really know without the deceit
That we're only blind?
To the scientist, no theory before fact;
To the artist, no tact with an omission;
To the wanderer, no beliefs are higher,
No reason absurd."
I knew I could rely on you, Brian. You were always there for me.
Fitting words we once shared at my bed, and now we share them once more in your head. Ha-ha-hah. You need to laugh more; it makes the world all feel numb. Who cares what is right?
Written by
Wolf_4_Life and featuring a piece I also wrote for Jack, An Ode to Wanderers in Dark.
Art by
EctoGeist and the creation of Jack's visual design was collaboratively made by me and 
Werewolfsense You should check them both out.
The face is a little rough around the edges, I know, but you know me. Give it a little time and I'll be as good as new. You did away with my old body--not blaming you, oh no, I need you, you see? I'm like the thin membrane between each layer of your brain; something to keep everything together, something trapped in that skull of yours.
But I live once more now, don't I? Guess that's a mild inconvenience to pay for: I get to look at your face all day. Ha-ha-ha-hah. Don't take me too seriously; relax, we're all here to joke. There's nothing more to our arrangement than that.
You can stop overthinking things--I know you have many questions. You should just unwind, relax, let me just savor the moment. Live a little out there, why don't you?
We're living in a post-mortem world. There's nothing other than moments to laugh at ourselves as everyone laughs into their graves.
Fine, I'll answer one of your questions, though you know the answer already. What am I? Well, you have your medical, inhumane definitions and you have your artsy schlock that will either deify me or demonize me. You can just call me like who I was before--this. Jack.
Oh, did I strike a nerve with you? You don't seem so sure of yourself, pal. But I can smell once more with my nose actually here. Thanks for remembering me. I thought we went our ways long ago, but then you started walking along my side of the memory lane. You just can't keep yourself from remembering me, can you?
You remember that song I once sang to you before Jack? Course ya' do. Trust me, it'll explain everything:
"Of substance, of merit, of futures within,
We alone leave to rethink the possible,
We descend into scrutiny of ourselves,
Wanderers in dark.
Immune from ideals of perfectionist lies,
We question even the foundations we rise,
We cast doubt beneath what the light obscures,
And grope for answers.
To the righteous, they mock us when we persist,
'You play with shadows; we know what is the truth.'
What do they really know without the deceit
That we're only blind?
To the scientist, no theory before fact;
To the artist, no tact with an omission;
To the wanderer, no beliefs are higher,
No reason absurd."
I knew I could rely on you, Brian. You were always there for me.
Fitting words we once shared at my bed, and now we share them once more in your head. Ha-ha-hah. You need to laugh more; it makes the world all feel numb. Who cares what is right?
Written by
Wolf_4_Life and featuring a piece I also wrote for Jack, An Ode to Wanderers in Dark.Art by
EctoGeist and the creation of Jack's visual design was collaboratively made by me and 
Werewolfsense You should check them both out.
Category All / All
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 600 x 600px
File Size 162.5 kB
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