What am I making of this intake? This booze,

  • What am I making of this intake? This booze, this gluttony, my Facebook feed trough, the news, the binge-watching? What alchemy occurs in this dust-devil's dissolute crucible? He
  • talks to me.
  • "Who talks to you, my sweet child?" Mother caressed my chin, staring at me intently. Her eyes had gone completely pitch black. That was when I knew my friends fate had been sealed.
  • I waited until mother let me go, and walked to the post office, demanding that they return my friends' scrolls. They kindly obliged, and I broke the seals on the scrolls to read my
  • future. When I unfurled the scroll, I found to my astonishment that it was completely blank. Was this a joke? Was what the fates had planned for me... Entirely left up to chance?
  • What the hell was I supposed to do with this "chance"? I was living my whole life leaving it up to chance and look where it has gotten me. I am the most hunted mortal with no where
  • to hide and with my death looming before me to surely go viral on YouTube. So I decided to do the only thing I could think of: I stopped running and started singing "Seasons in the
  • Sun." After blinking away tears, I found myself standing on the beach. The soothing surf sloshed against my bare legs and feet. I slowly sank into the soggy sand.
  • The microbiotic diet I was on took its toll when I was enjoying breakfast with The Beatles. Sir Paul suggested a vegan diet instead. Okay, I said. I followed his advice and found
  • , after a while, that I preferred Meatloaf.


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