Not that long ago, (like a few weeks) I discovered I could possess more than just flesh.
The thought came to me one night when I was managing (or at least trying to) several shipments coming in to Los Sauces.
There was a generator that fell-out of rotation and we were losing lights left and right.
anyways.
So, I reach out and into the laptop, just like I would a human; trying to pierce it's brain, to influence the electrons to do my bidding. This incident went off without a hitch. I brought the generator back on the grid and everything went smoothly.
I'm going to tell you about the time it didn't happen so effortlessly.
The time it went quite awry.
I was going over some quarterly reports; financing and all that jazz.
I was typing away on the laptop, trying to finalize a summary, when a message alert popped on the toolbar.
Curious and dying (HA!) for a break, I zipped the mouse on over to see what it was about.
AH... Computer King
He had messaged me on the Facebook, letting me know he had constructed another show and I should check it out.
Well, I had just discovered this power, wanted to listen to his show, and just to be a bit annoying; I jumped into the 'stream' and 'rode' on over to SAVETHEVILLAIN.COM
That's when the stinky stuff hit the ceiling fan.
There was at first a heartbeating. It thumped rhythmically, soon accompanied by a patterned snare.
And I mean that literally.
I had been snared.
There was no point resisting, the song had already begun.
I was at once entranced.
Paralyzed.
In the background I could hear him laughing...
Computer King.. He can do anything.
As a side note to this fiasco, I spent the next few days hopping from body to body, carrying out various tasks that I have no idea what their ultimate purpose was. I guess that's what happens when a SUPERVILLAIN like Computer King gets hold of you.
What tasks?
I can't divulge them. I simply can't remember them.
It's like this time back in 2006 when I was mild-manneredly crossing the street and out of nowhere this giant mechanoid hover contraption smacks right into me! It didn't even slow down; I guess there was somewhere really important the driver had to get to. It's hard to remember what I was doing, where I was going, or what happened next.. with only half a torso.
Oh well.
Keep droppin' those rhymes, CK.
Just stay out of my bank account.
Head Shot!
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
The Zombie Apocalypse
If you have heard me say this once, it was the millionth time:
THE ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE IS REAL!
Oh sure, maybe not the OMG-Our-next-door-neighbor-Ned-just-bit-me or The-entire-city-is-crawling-with-the-undead.. yet. But there are other Zombie Apocalypse scenarios out there...
Let's go over some data.
Sort of.
First, let's see what the internets have to say... ok. That's scary.
But let's look at something a little less OMG-I'm-never-going-outside-again!
Okay, that didn't work either.
You know what?
Let's forget all that nonsense and talk about you humans.
That's where all the REAL DANGER comes from.
That's right.
Religion.
If there was ever a more clear and present threat, it's religion.
If there was going to be an uprising of any sort (alive, dead, or undead), it's going to be some half-moronic/half-gibbering-baboon that spits something the other half-moronic/half-gibbering-baboons don't like and then it's on 'like Donkey Kong'. And when I say that, I mean Donkey Kong and your mom.
That's right.
A great big ape that likes to throw all sorts of barrels in your mom's butt.
And let's face it.
Humans and religion really don't mix well.
Especially human religions that don't mix well.
Like Christianity and Islam.
Or Christianity and Catholicism.
Huh? No, they are NOT the same thing.
Mormons.
They got it right.
Right?
Look.
You say the earth was created by some mystical all-powerful, all-knowing, all-encompassing being. I say it was the Spaghetti Monster.
You can't prove me wrong and I can't prove me right.
Which is the same for any of your GODZ.
Wait, how did this become some half-assed tirade on religion and it's gaggle of brain-dead idiots?
Oh.. Heh. I just read my previous line.
Got it.
Hey all you Reverend Father Pastor Master Legends Of The Universe out there?
Yeah, you.
You got yourself a little online .jpg that says you're hot shit with G-D.. Nice.
You want to know what you don't have?
Dignity.
And Crossfire? A book, regardless of what inspiration it was formed from, that was written by man is NOT EVIDENCE that G-D exists.
It's evidence, all right.
Evidence that a lot of people went through great effort to convince future generations to listen to what MAN tells them to do. There's this thing called 'Position of Trust'. Abusing it is tantamount to evil.
And not the You-will-CROUCH-before-me-now-evil (that's the good, er, evil kind). No. I'm talking about the Do-as-I-say-not-as-I-do-evil.
That bass ackwards reasoning for telling your kids it's wrong to hold hands with the same gendered friends. And everything else that Master Legend and Toth-Toth get away with.
YOU.. Crossfire, fail to understand that I am NOT condemning, bullying, or forcing you to listen or convert to my way of thinking.
'Heaven' help you if you did.
Your eyes would be open, your heart as well, to a grand truth.
It doesn't matter what YOU have faith in.
It's what has FAITH in you.
Now meet my good friend Jesus Christo.
If there's a Zombie Apocalypse.. and Christianity is my 'only hope'?
I'm rollin' deep with this mofo.
Note: Don't get all cranky-pants. I am a creature of passion. I speak from a place that too few fear to tread.
Intelligence.
Now, leave all your snarky little comments below.
THE ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE IS REAL!
Oh sure, maybe not the OMG-Our-next-door-neighbor-Ned-just-bit-me or The-entire-city-is-crawling-with-the-undead.. yet. But there are other Zombie Apocalypse scenarios out there...
Let's go over some data.
Sort of.
First, let's see what the internets have to say... ok. That's scary.
But let's look at something a little less OMG-I'm-never-going-outside-again!
Okay, that didn't work either.
You know what?
Let's forget all that nonsense and talk about you humans.
That's where all the REAL DANGER comes from.
That's right.
Religion.
If there was ever a more clear and present threat, it's religion.
If there was going to be an uprising of any sort (alive, dead, or undead), it's going to be some half-moronic/half-gibbering-baboon that spits something the other half-moronic/half-gibbering-baboons don't like and then it's on 'like Donkey Kong'. And when I say that, I mean Donkey Kong and your mom.
That's right.
A great big ape that likes to throw all sorts of barrels in your mom's butt.
And let's face it.
Humans and religion really don't mix well.
Especially human religions that don't mix well.
Like Christianity and Islam.
Or Christianity and Catholicism.
Huh? No, they are NOT the same thing.
Mormons.
They got it right.
Right?
Look.
You say the earth was created by some mystical all-powerful, all-knowing, all-encompassing being. I say it was the Spaghetti Monster.
You can't prove me wrong and I can't prove me right.
Which is the same for any of your GODZ.
Wait, how did this become some half-assed tirade on religion and it's gaggle of brain-dead idiots?
Oh.. Heh. I just read my previous line.
Got it.
Hey all you Reverend Father Pastor Master Legends Of The Universe out there?
Yeah, you.
You got yourself a little online .jpg that says you're hot shit with G-D.. Nice.
You want to know what you don't have?
Dignity.
And Crossfire? A book, regardless of what inspiration it was formed from, that was written by man is NOT EVIDENCE that G-D exists.
It's evidence, all right.
Evidence that a lot of people went through great effort to convince future generations to listen to what MAN tells them to do. There's this thing called 'Position of Trust'. Abusing it is tantamount to evil.
And not the You-will-CROUCH-before-me-now-evil (that's the good, er, evil kind). No. I'm talking about the Do-as-I-say-not-as-I-do-evil.
That bass ackwards reasoning for telling your kids it's wrong to hold hands with the same gendered friends. And everything else that Master Legend and Toth-Toth get away with.
YOU.. Crossfire, fail to understand that I am NOT condemning, bullying, or forcing you to listen or convert to my way of thinking.
'Heaven' help you if you did.
Your eyes would be open, your heart as well, to a grand truth.
It doesn't matter what YOU have faith in.
It's what has FAITH in you.
Now meet my good friend Jesus Christo.
If there's a Zombie Apocalypse.. and Christianity is my 'only hope'?
I'm rollin' deep with this mofo.
Note: Don't get all cranky-pants. I am a creature of passion. I speak from a place that too few fear to tread.
Intelligence.
Now, leave all your snarky little comments below.
Friday, April 22, 2011
Revelation of the Dead
Hello,
I am Agent Wraith.
With the majority of the human populace still running around in religion-land, I feel the need to reiterate some of my views. (There have been meetings. Scores of meetings. We managed a successful teleconference with two United States! Simultaneously! A huge effort! Considering that the last successful broadcast went horribly awry, I'd say so. I can't blame Franklin. It was all me. I was stinkin' up the joint.)
I embrace that villainy. I am FREE to SPEAK my THOUGHTS.
THE ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE!
Ignore me, because I can be:
Annoying.
Confusing.
Or not.
Anywho, let me get down to business. I'll make it short and sweet.
EASTER!
HIDDEN SECRETS FROM THE FREE MASONS!
Gross. Zombie Jesus.
I am Agent Wraith.
With the majority of the human populace still running around in religion-land, I feel the need to reiterate some of my views. (There have been meetings. Scores of meetings. We managed a successful teleconference with two United States! Simultaneously! A huge effort! Considering that the last successful broadcast went horribly awry, I'd say so. I can't blame Franklin. It was all me. I was stinkin' up the joint.)
I embrace that villainy. I am FREE to SPEAK my THOUGHTS.
THE ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE!
Ignore me, because I can be:
Annoying.
Confusing.
Or not.
Anywho, let me get down to business. I'll make it short and sweet.
EASTER!
HIDDEN SECRETS FROM THE FREE MASONS!
Beware.
The Apocalypse draws nigh.
(Image courtesy of The Zombie Reporting Center)
Gross. Zombie Jesus.
Thursday, April 21, 2011
All Too Human
Lately, I've found myself on a precipice.
I have teetered the lofty edge of fate, staring at the cliffs of destiny below.
Ugh. Metaphors.
I can't use them properly.
I just sound like an aging hipster.
Because I am?
I have struggled with the emotions of my hosts before, reveling in their passion and hate, enjoying their anguish.
That's a cold evil thing to do really.
I need to empathize.. how else am I going to adequately convince you that the planet needs salvation?
That humans are the root-cause?
I dunno.
I can't keep griping.
It's gotten old.
Fast.
It seems like I feel the ghost slipping. Like the host is asserting its dominance.
And I don't like that.
It's time to return to basics.
Again.
I've become very busy lately.
It will be nice to get some things done.
So many projects just sitting there.
I'm going to stick with what I'm good at.
Being annoying and confusing.
It's not much of a schtick and so many others are so much better at it than me..
But, I have to work with what I have to work with.
I will remain to support villainy, from the shadows, as best I can. If you choose to disassociate with me for any reason, so be it.
I no longer hold humans or their derivatives to any standard, so do what you will.
I've got superlasers to avoid.
HA!
I have teetered the lofty edge of fate, staring at the cliffs of destiny below.
Ugh. Metaphors.
I can't use them properly.
I just sound like an aging hipster.
Because I am?
I have struggled with the emotions of my hosts before, reveling in their passion and hate, enjoying their anguish.
That's a cold evil thing to do really.
I need to empathize.. how else am I going to adequately convince you that the planet needs salvation?
That humans are the root-cause?
I dunno.
I can't keep griping.
It's gotten old.
Fast.
It seems like I feel the ghost slipping. Like the host is asserting its dominance.
And I don't like that.
It's time to return to basics.
Again.
I've become very busy lately.
It will be nice to get some things done.
So many projects just sitting there.
I'm going to stick with what I'm good at.
Being annoying and confusing.
It's not much of a schtick and so many others are so much better at it than me..
But, I have to work with what I have to work with.
I will remain to support villainy, from the shadows, as best I can. If you choose to disassociate with me for any reason, so be it.
I no longer hold humans or their derivatives to any standard, so do what you will.
I've got superlasers to avoid.
HA!
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Defense
When the United States government comes knocking, it's best to not answer the door.
Take care of yourselves.
Agent Wraith
Take care of yourselves.
Agent Wraith
Monday, April 18, 2011
The Day of the Machete!
The following took place on April 14, 2011:
4:15 am
Henchman 22 stirs and discovers leak in level 23..
I am paged out of my slumber.
Yes, I said paged.
She assures me there is nothing to worry about and I should go about my normal routine, but I cannot.
I am restless with concern.
4:45 am
Rail car transportation inspected, stocked with essentials, and detailed. We are set to depart many times, then delayed by various Henchmen and their woes.
Note: Franklin cannot have more than one carry-on.
Who brings 5 suitcases in the middle of a flood?
4:59 am
First aftershock.
3.2
Not bad enough to do any damage, but just enough to let you know what it is.
And slightly increased flooding in level 23.
22 is still not rushing, trying to convince us there is nothing to worry over.
5:30 am
Departure from station, Henchmen in tow.
Another aftershock (lost count by this point) makes everything worse.
Transportation is quick, but fails to move fast enough. Tunnels destabilize and prevent return. 22 is struck by debris, complains, then returns to the calm composure we know so well. Even with a machete half in her guts.
5:52 am
Arrival at destination. 22 is rushed to the Infirmary, we all fear the worst.
The machete is making everything worse and as she is put on the gurney, the rail car pulls away.
5:56 am
Rail car explodes.
We barely escape alive.
Note: Do not allow Franklin to drive.
5:59 am
I arrive at the Infirmary to find 22 in shock, the machete on a table nearby, and the doctors telling her she's going to be fine. The machete is still, wiped clean of 22's blood, and quiet. It is taken away and the room falls into a black pall.
6:30 am
After no word, ill or good, the machete is brought to 22. It reminds us of how frail we all once were.
She brandishes it strongly, vowing to never let anyone wrench it from her living hands.
7:00 am
On pain meds, 22 tells me that Los Sauces finally feels like home and she is comfortable with becoming its caretaker. She understands the Meeting of Resolution (March 21) and nods silently.
I nod back as she falls asleep.
7:55 am
Henchman 22 stirs briefly.
9:01 am
A few of the Henchmen, including Franklin, bring 22 food. She doesn't enjoy the food they have prepared and nearly kills them all.
The machete is almost lost amongst their bodies, until Franklin points it out.
9:20 am
Franklin completes the Henchmen clean up. I take it upon myself to find something palatable for 22 and take one henchman with me. If I fail, at least I won't lose an entire team.
10:17 am
I return, food in hand. Henchman 22 is pleased and no one else has to die.
10:52 am
Full, everyone falls asleep.
12:04 pm
Upon awakening, we find the machete is missing.
Henchman 22's rampage is soon evident.
2:08 pm
Several Henchmen are strangled, mangled, slaughtered, and crushed. 22 is distraught; suicidal.
Several more Henchmen meet their doom before her storm subsides.
The machete is brought to her, apologies are ignored, and messengers are killed.
3:00 pm
Lunch.
Cheese ravioli with a light sauce, steamed broccoli, crackers, and juice.
22 opts for a carbonated beverage against medical advice.
The Infirmary loses another staff member before she gets her soda.
4:00 pm
Franklin and I go for a walk away from the medical complex.
He tells me he is worried about 22 and how insane she has been acting lately.
I try to tell him that it's just the machete that makes her feel like that.
He worries some more, eats a coyote, and we head back.
6:00 pm
There is a 'general' alarm sounding, alerting the compound to another attack.
The USPS keeps trying to deliver official documents and the boys at the gate keep telling them to 'Get lost!'
I admire their tenacity, but paratroopers only make matter worse.
For a moment, we feared a War @ Los Sauces.
But, thanks to Franklin, 5, 00, 28, and 22, the tide turns and the gunfire ceases.
7:59 pm
I send Franklin to herd the rest of the Henchmen away and off to his quarters for the night. He is tired and weary, a good night's sleep will refresh him.
22 remarks that he is progressing wonderfully for a mutilated zombie/corpse thing and we laugh.
It's been a long while since we've done that.
8:40 pm
Dinner.
I have to turn service away at the door (ravioli again?) and inform 22 dinner will be late.
It doesn't take long to find a replacement host or meal and I bring them both to her.
She enjoys the stuffed roast and mashed potatoes.
Enough she loosens her grip enough so I can breathe.
Note: Resurrection and possession are not easy tasks. One should never perform them on an empty stomach.
9:30 pm
Host body craves nicotine, so 22 and I watch the clouds cover the moon as I smoke.
We make plans to celebrate this auspicious and eventful day in the future.
I chuckle as I mash out the rest of a cigarette, comment on how this body won't even make it that far, and we head inside.
11:09 pm
Host body craves nicotine again, so I head back out.
Alone (save the laptop) and in the dark, I reach out to the world and see what's going on in villainy.
Same as usual.
Youngsters, amongst us, egotistical and flawed, dance from out of the woodwork in a big 'I'm-doing-this-for-the-thrill' and infecting various social sites with their drivel.
Seasoned veterans, up in arms about this-or-that, RLSH or RCMP, and giving tirades.
Note: Lord Malignance's social commentary 'One, Villain' in Better Lairs and Gardens was phenomenally better than mine.
I begin work on 'Day of the Machete' post.
12:06 am
The body I inhabit collapses from exhaustion at the lap top and I am dragged back to my quarters.
I am tossed unceremoniously through the doors and crash spectacularly onto the floor.
And then I die.
4:15 am
Henchman 22 stirs and discovers leak in level 23..
I am paged out of my slumber.
Yes, I said paged.
She assures me there is nothing to worry about and I should go about my normal routine, but I cannot.
I am restless with concern.
4:45 am
Rail car transportation inspected, stocked with essentials, and detailed. We are set to depart many times, then delayed by various Henchmen and their woes.
Note: Franklin cannot have more than one carry-on.
Who brings 5 suitcases in the middle of a flood?
4:59 am
First aftershock.
3.2
Not bad enough to do any damage, but just enough to let you know what it is.
And slightly increased flooding in level 23.
22 is still not rushing, trying to convince us there is nothing to worry over.
5:30 am
Departure from station, Henchmen in tow.
Another aftershock (lost count by this point) makes everything worse.
Transportation is quick, but fails to move fast enough. Tunnels destabilize and prevent return. 22 is struck by debris, complains, then returns to the calm composure we know so well. Even with a machete half in her guts.
5:52 am
Arrival at destination. 22 is rushed to the Infirmary, we all fear the worst.
The machete is making everything worse and as she is put on the gurney, the rail car pulls away.
5:56 am
Rail car explodes.
We barely escape alive.
Note: Do not allow Franklin to drive.
5:59 am
I arrive at the Infirmary to find 22 in shock, the machete on a table nearby, and the doctors telling her she's going to be fine. The machete is still, wiped clean of 22's blood, and quiet. It is taken away and the room falls into a black pall.
6:30 am
After no word, ill or good, the machete is brought to 22. It reminds us of how frail we all once were.
She brandishes it strongly, vowing to never let anyone wrench it from her living hands.
7:00 am
On pain meds, 22 tells me that Los Sauces finally feels like home and she is comfortable with becoming its caretaker. She understands the Meeting of Resolution (March 21) and nods silently.
I nod back as she falls asleep.
7:55 am
Henchman 22 stirs briefly.
9:01 am
A few of the Henchmen, including Franklin, bring 22 food. She doesn't enjoy the food they have prepared and nearly kills them all.
The machete is almost lost amongst their bodies, until Franklin points it out.
9:20 am
Franklin completes the Henchmen clean up. I take it upon myself to find something palatable for 22 and take one henchman with me. If I fail, at least I won't lose an entire team.
10:17 am
I return, food in hand. Henchman 22 is pleased and no one else has to die.
10:52 am
Full, everyone falls asleep.
12:04 pm
Upon awakening, we find the machete is missing.
Henchman 22's rampage is soon evident.
2:08 pm
Several Henchmen are strangled, mangled, slaughtered, and crushed. 22 is distraught; suicidal.
Several more Henchmen meet their doom before her storm subsides.
The machete is brought to her, apologies are ignored, and messengers are killed.
3:00 pm
Lunch.
Cheese ravioli with a light sauce, steamed broccoli, crackers, and juice.
22 opts for a carbonated beverage against medical advice.
The Infirmary loses another staff member before she gets her soda.
4:00 pm
Franklin and I go for a walk away from the medical complex.
He tells me he is worried about 22 and how insane she has been acting lately.
I try to tell him that it's just the machete that makes her feel like that.
He worries some more, eats a coyote, and we head back.
6:00 pm
There is a 'general' alarm sounding, alerting the compound to another attack.
The USPS keeps trying to deliver official documents and the boys at the gate keep telling them to 'Get lost!'
I admire their tenacity, but paratroopers only make matter worse.
For a moment, we feared a War @ Los Sauces.
But, thanks to Franklin, 5, 00, 28, and 22, the tide turns and the gunfire ceases.
7:59 pm
I send Franklin to herd the rest of the Henchmen away and off to his quarters for the night. He is tired and weary, a good night's sleep will refresh him.
22 remarks that he is progressing wonderfully for a mutilated zombie/corpse thing and we laugh.
It's been a long while since we've done that.
8:40 pm
Dinner.
I have to turn service away at the door (ravioli again?) and inform 22 dinner will be late.
It doesn't take long to find a replacement host or meal and I bring them both to her.
She enjoys the stuffed roast and mashed potatoes.
Enough she loosens her grip enough so I can breathe.
Note: Resurrection and possession are not easy tasks. One should never perform them on an empty stomach.
9:30 pm
Host body craves nicotine, so 22 and I watch the clouds cover the moon as I smoke.
We make plans to celebrate this auspicious and eventful day in the future.
I chuckle as I mash out the rest of a cigarette, comment on how this body won't even make it that far, and we head inside.
11:09 pm
Host body craves nicotine again, so I head back out.
Alone (save the laptop) and in the dark, I reach out to the world and see what's going on in villainy.
Same as usual.
Youngsters, amongst us, egotistical and flawed, dance from out of the woodwork in a big 'I'm-doing-this-for-the-thrill' and infecting various social sites with their drivel.
Seasoned veterans, up in arms about this-or-that, RLSH or RCMP, and giving tirades.
Note: Lord Malignance's social commentary 'One, Villain' in Better Lairs and Gardens was phenomenally better than mine.
I begin work on 'Day of the Machete' post.
12:06 am
The body I inhabit collapses from exhaustion at the lap top and I am dragged back to my quarters.
I am tossed unceremoniously through the doors and crash spectacularly onto the floor.
And then I die.
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Metamorphosis
Things aren't always as they seem.
We know this.
The eyes can convince the mind many things.
The mind can convince the eyes anything.
Here's where we stand over at Los Sauces:
Franklin has destroyed the central air.
The temperature hasn't been below 80 for weeks.
I cannot begin to describe the smell.
LOS SAUCES: CLOSED FOR "AROMATIC" REASONS
I can hear the keys.
I can hear the proton packs charging.
I am Jack's-former-military indoctrination.
The things that stand between us now, is who's crazy enough to take it to the next level.
Become the next level.
MLOL
I remember saying I was the next step in human evolution.
I sound like I'm being vain.
Perhaps I should not follow the Gentleman's Guide to Villainy, When Dealing With Other Villains; Paragraph 3, Resolution of Grievances:
Name the place and we duel.
Yes, Steam Punk is ridiculous. I won't mind giant mechanoid suits of armor, though.
Should be easy.
Now follow along to the rhythm in this line: villains do these things for notoriety, the attention time.
The technology is easy, you see, A to B; a flip of the switch, Back From The Future it will be.
Nope.
Can't beatnik it up.
22 hates hippies.
Any kind of hippies.
22.
She tempers me.
If that makes any sense. Probably why things are where they are now.
She keeps me under control and in control.
The most important part of the tribe.
Her recovery is tantamount to my existence.
My fetter.
Crap. I can't keep slipping up like this.
Typing something I'm sure is too much information, not editing it out of the post; not caring.
Make it so.
CHAOS!
I return to the shadows from whence I came.
I see my family.
They bid me take my place among them.
boo.
We know this.
The eyes can convince the mind many things.
The mind can convince the eyes anything.
Here's where we stand over at Los Sauces:
Franklin has destroyed the central air.
The temperature hasn't been below 80 for weeks.
I cannot begin to describe the smell.
LOS SAUCES: CLOSED FOR "AROMATIC" REASONS
I can hear the keys.
I can hear the proton packs charging.
I am Jack's-former-military indoctrination.
The things that stand between us now, is who's crazy enough to take it to the next level.
Become the next level.
MLOL
I remember saying I was the next step in human evolution.
I sound like I'm being vain.
Perhaps I should not follow the Gentleman's Guide to Villainy, When Dealing With Other Villains; Paragraph 3, Resolution of Grievances:
Name the place and we duel.
Yes, Steam Punk is ridiculous. I won't mind giant mechanoid suits of armor, though.
Should be easy.
Now follow along to the rhythm in this line: villains do these things for notoriety, the attention time.
The technology is easy, you see, A to B; a flip of the switch, Back From The Future it will be.
Nope.
Can't beatnik it up.
22 hates hippies.
Any kind of hippies.
22.
She tempers me.
If that makes any sense. Probably why things are where they are now.
She keeps me under control and in control.
The most important part of the tribe.
Her recovery is tantamount to my existence.
My fetter.
Crap. I can't keep slipping up like this.
Typing something I'm sure is too much information, not editing it out of the post; not caring.
Make it so.
CHAOS!
I return to the shadows from whence I came.
I see my family.
They bid me take my place among them.
boo.
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