I told you they were blind. Waiting for what. It’s not what they tell you in college you will work while you drive le-multitasking. People pull their hair out. All I have is a dirt bike. On my last visit, ghosts. Ambulance wails. The sound absorbed by rivers, all of it memory. I am writing a book whose background is dystopian. Not dystopia. Dystopian. Dystopian is what the lot of you already are while your Bleeds Away Culture is your counter-culture of hopelessness. Rings true you know it does. The master decrees: Work. The Master is a very big girl. The Master would compel you to eat pussy at the entrance to Grants Tomb. Rings true.