of course, god-damn. i pour my god-damn entire brain into this thing & the browser crashed. none of that fucking top secret shit can be allowed to hit the streets, can it? fucking conspiracy in the heavens. i talk about a creator sometimes. it is an abstraction i've grown comfortable with. its hate i can keep track of easily. but i don't mean it for that much. for what its worth. i'm not an anti-hume sucker for cause & effect. hell on wheels, baby, i got a thousand tons of every-day hate for things stored up, but you think i want to spend it all on the future? trust me, the future will take care of itself. to paraphrase a great man named james jones- "i've got crowns, i've got compasses, i've got dynamite, i'll fight." i'll fickle-fight all your champions. i'll leave not even a smell of brimstone will be left behind. fuck i'm so lonely. why was it ruined? i didn't fall so much as crumple, like a kleenex tossed aside. no matter. i bring suffering & oblivion. i will fight my war even if the only victory is pyhric. mutal anihilation is totally worth it.