There is always an end to things. This is not really mine. Who knows, maybe when I left, a while ago, leaving these canned bits of my anger to drop out of the sky into the Cloud... Maybe, I took paper and pen with me, or figured some way to haul and charge the computer...
You may not know. Hell, I could even be locked up in a padded cell (I'm sure lots of folks think I belong there, just like I think they do as well). Or, I found my peaceful place, and sit there, pipe and hat still with me, relaxing as I let the tension of trying to rejoin the world drain away.
Perhaps, some small bits of my work, tossed about by my editing chainsaw, might streak through this virtual sky, leaving a smoking trail behind them of words here later?
Not telling.
Unless, of course, I wind up on a beach, surrounded by a bevy of bikini gals willing to fight off the squirrels whilst I smoke and sip my coffee, coke, or root beer float. Then I'd rub it in your faces.
So, perchance we will or have met, as I wandered away, and you now ask, why?
Petty revenge, anger, and just pure disgust made me toss it all to the web, waving aside forever the chance for dollars. You got all I want to give of the tales so far... perhaps. Then again, who knows?
Me, the Shadow, and three heartless wenches do, but the latter are mean gals... Billenius's mistresses, the Fates, or Parcae...
Happy holiday of your choice... me, I'm long gone... and better for it, I hope.
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