Finishing a Thought

I wrote to Shaq, and now he can't write back. He swalked and broke the transmission. It just disappeared. Dade County can no longer call you Sheriff. Esteb will take care of me if and when I return to the warlands of Indinapolis. It ain't an easy gig. So many entities that got so big, so quick. I move through the stream and the sands of anonymity. It is the only way I will survive the day and write with the freedom of prose, but the bullet of biography and editorial. I connect with the media in my past, a family CHARMED to infinity, but unknown to me. Everything was just an even tide. That, grand plan, was so that they could keep what they had in their heads, their beds, and in their actual bank accounts. Today I say goodbye, but I will not lie. I no longer believe in death in a classic way. Realms are shifting and reorganizing. Ojibwae see a different reality to me. Falcon in the sky. Death harbinger is all of yee around me. Swalking starlings, not darlings. Her voice so sweet, their actions strange almost molesting me. Catholics need to step back. Last rights is a heart attack. None of you are pretty and she has projected your actions on me my whole life. Today I will be free to see the almighty of just the vicinity and acuality. Enough said.