9:34 PM (0 minutes ago) to me [^] how many days has it been? Have you founf enougj material yet to satisfy yourself? Cant say you know how the story is going to go yet, brilliant ideas flashing in your mind like christmas lights, but all the bulbs are dead in reality. Need to untangle em, like christmas lights. Like christmas. Merry, merry christmas. You see the people around you? Of course not, your eyes are closed. Their speech is entering your vision regardless. They pop up like the weird swirly shit when you cllse your eyes has taken form into angsty furry mmo dreck. Speech bubbles, theyre speech bubbles. Lets see here, “200 pages of allegations” “cant pppl be normal bro” “really nice to know the justx fandom is the same cesspool it always was”. Looks like you meteored yourself right into the middle of a drama bomb. Youre the neutron intitiayor in this fission reaction, no im not going to correct my spelling or grammer. I dont know exactly what causes a nuclesr explosion, fission is caused by some neutron hitting uranium or polonium or some particular shit. It doesnt matter what the name of each one is, theyre all roses, the spirit of an atom bomb is that it takes a neutral to ignite the explosion. Otherwise its all radioactive material decaying slowly. Youre the fuse, the checkovs gun, the bullet, the ome who opens the door, the extra bit of weight on yhe dcale. Finger, yeah dinger. You want ro wscape me? How many days has it bren? Yeah time is gidgety, vant tell here, you can tell though. Time only moves here when yoi do baby. Youre the bullet. The bottle rocket in a tea kettle. World don’t move unless youre moving but that still dont make you important. Its been days, maybe a week. Maybe two. Youve got pieces up and running. You wsnt them uo, want people to see. Aint happening fella? It’ll get picked up when it does but until then youre dying. Make the lilacs spring. Better they dont get to hear you talk back yknow, we’re dense. We’re two Built from Yellawood and the Bravest are groping a little. I love you more thna you know. Yeah, when Im up you cant see beyond your unlovely woe. Im always up though, and you can feel me. From your head to your jaw to your shoulder right under your shoulder blade. Never even got to cook yourself in the sun, so you press hard on the remote to fastforward to your dreams, wings broken. Youre a supple 33 year old man, the fields arent flourishing but there’s no snow. The weather is warm this year, its Midnight, your path is straight through the backwoods. Its been a bad idea before you even considered it, the rain will pick up soon. Maybe if a drop touches your forehead itll wake even a dullard like you, the undergrowth clutching to you in this stony rubbish. Forehead, you want me to go back and write “Forehead” not forehead. April is the cruelest month and you’re in December. So meet the Road Erect, it makes all the difference. [^]