Being That Special

Transportation getting so scary. Crash crash here, crash crash there. A plane the level of half of a downtown skyscraper yesterday did concern me. I wrote a note to the FAA, and hopefully things get rectified. I am fighting the fatigue demon and the sky promises that it will hold its own self one day soon. The tune of enemy is friend today and I sit in the seat of Caribou that is best for my back. I am trying to get free of the chains of services that are fucked in the head. My crown keeps tipping and flipping and I see the revelry and say, "Oh, that's interseting." My KING is in the klinker today. It is time for him to be a thinker and maintain his beautiful form. I give him a suit of armor to keep him clothed and a special hat to have only his sheriff uniform be seen. We will see new realities soon enough. I be kind and rewind in a way that foes can back away and no one will pay in this moment. POWER is he, especially when locked in a small lockdown cell. They try to film, but THAT will never be. He needs to prove his power to the rats around him and tip his hat to the evil of telekinesis in downtown jail vicnity. Telekinesis as an offense is a heinous sex crime. So sayeth the king.