Hello and Welcome

Well hello there, welcome to my humble abode! Some of you might know me already some of you may not but either way, thanks for coming and hanging out with me, I really appreciate it.

But here I am getting ahead of myself, let's start at the beginning.

My factory assigned name is Poison226 and for the foreseeable future I have been tasked (read as enslaved) to the Poison Paint Factory as their singular painter of all things plastic/resin/metal. It has been explained to me through lucid dreams that this is my punishment for my rampant consumerism and to clear my "pile of shame" which has been growing steadily over the past decade or so.

I LOVE miniatures. I see new models or a new Kickstarter with miniatures and my wallet groans, it knows I'm weak, I just can't help myself. I don't care if it's fantastical or grounded, futuristic or past, I don't care if it's human or beast; if I see something I can paint and an idea pops in my head it takes some persuading to keep me from it… and here I am, trapped in the "Factory" with no means of escape with only my own thoughts for company, an endless supply of paints and an almost endless supply of models.

I guess this is for my own good but I can't help but feel trapped. Ensnared. My hands shake as I type these words, the realisation setting in that… that I may never get out, may never escape. I wish for freedom, my dreams are the only time I can see the temple guard blue of the sky or the moot green of the grass…oh to feel the soft bristles of grass on my feet, to hear the brush of trees colliding with the wind, what joy these thoughts bring me.

I'm cold. My own thoughts rattle around my skull like dice falling from hand to table. I am alone. It's so dark when I venture from my painting desk, where the lamp light daren't wander. The drip of water leaking through the corrugated roof, the squeak and scrabble of animals somewhere in the distance…where am I?

Please dearest reader, don't leave me.

Yours,

Forever in horror,

Poison226.