So it starts as the van left.

So it starts as the van left. Scraping the head on the grindstone to come up with the point. A huge soup with alphabets and nouns swirl in the cracking bowl atop my shoulders. Anything elegant? The forces inside rock me to longwalks in alleys at night. What path, what direction? I know but the mouth is being desiphered. Steps to take, bear traps everywhere. I bet they all, the ones, the bastards must have hit this. Crashed though with blind optimisim to the hands of question. How many dead are there? No way to know. Pictures, words, or audiotape? Something must be punctured and from the advice of a wise man small bites will be enjoyed. Intense with nonsence. And what about the other planets?

Tiz been a while since my last blog, to that I can only account acts of violence, bueaty, and extreme genral weirdness that took places in the desert lands. The storys are also important in detail. But to ballance book costs... Danger ground, this is my pausing of thought.