secretish blogs... from the once great promoter, who should have watched what the wished for.
I am nothing but a message. Not even a messenger with another life, who will deliver other messages. I am the message. I am here. Life is over. I will hopefully not live to see it. I do not want and will not be the cause of it, that is a vow I do not have to take, just true.
I do not want to be seen as insane or ungrateful. I expected at some point my mild eccentricities would be eclipsed by my generosity with wealth and fame. Or something. I wanted more than anything to be normal, yet despised normal -- my intelligence did not allow me to fit in. Period. I lacked the graces the neo liberals require, and the mind the intellectuals would find original -- I am not original at all, except by error in not following the norm, in many cases.
I have come across a problem that is too large for me to think about. Now a part of me does want to save my ass. I cannot allow that to be my moral compass however. Holding onto mortality like it is the be all and end all is ridiculous to me, except in a situation where my flesh is needed, and now more than ever this seems the case.
Preparations unseen have left the continental usa at risk. War has come here with a nuclear tinge, and this makes all moves precarious. I am not sure how NOT to set off fuses, and would not light them.
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