So I've come to some realizations here lately. Surviving to be the last pretty much blows. The people who get cut are not the lost but the ones with a new horizon. Unfamiliar, risky, dangerous but a guaranteed reprise from the patterns that once were everything....Everything doesn't really matter.

Do the legends still lurk here? Like Roaches in the dark?

"Mass graves for the pump and the price is set. And the price is set"
14 years old and as relevant as the day it was written.

My niece was talking to my daughter about the cloud formations. Innocence and imagination. That is what fucking counts.

Adios.