Hope comes soon as now.

I walk bruised.

Still evil.

Inside dark corridors some light gets in. More light then ever to burst the prison. The end is the begining. We must start ourselvses as children somehow. We are looking more together perhaps as seeing the puns. And the rats are on the run they are. The flute plays a merry tune as the cats arrive just in time for tea.

Darling it is most perplexing that you know me in reality and I many years ago saw you while I slept. How do you know me?

Dead ends happen to me. Even serious ones. Yet I press on. I wont give them a victim response. No I will contintue to press on though faked hatred hurts like fake truth I wont just stop because I can. Though fear attempts to control I don't bend in submission. I ask for help when I must. I do the best I can, at least with some zest. They'll be more chapters ahead with myself and Bill Hole, perhaps to guide and protect me.