Meanwhile somewhere outside the city

So I was standing in the sky's waste today and sinking. While it was warm enough to melt a little of the eskimo cocaine, it still was cold enough to bite the feeling right off my face. This is the year spring doesn't come. I completely understand it now. I feel like this every winter in February. But this time is different. The slate gray sky has sat down and sighed just like my father did after dinner in the lazyboy. I'm waiting for the snoring. We thought the snow was bad, but something far worse will shake us all to the core as it drops out of the sky.

In further and slightly less important news I've lost my faith in people... again. A brittle and silly thought that all people are inherently good can only survive so many horrors. Mine shattered like balsa wood. The dark side welcomes me. It always does. It knows that I'll be back. I stew around until I forget all the nasty things that happen and I walk back out into the world with an ignorant view only to be smashed once more by cruelty. What can I say? This world just wasn't built for me.

So eyes on the prize. Here it is: HORRORscope

You'll stumble upon something truly magnificent and brilliant and expensive, but you'll have no idea what it is and throw it away. A building or room you are accustomed to will no longer feel like home. Someone somewhere will die. And you will read this and think: how does he know all this stuff will happen? or this is specific or this really did happen. Nope. Just good guesses and a strong foundation in the norm. Also, you won't feel popular enough. Enough said.

Little aside to myself: no one is reading this.

Living in someone else's world,
LQ