8 didn't just bite me, 8 had my entire family and friends "there but MIA" as the people I knew my entire life, homeless, delusionally defamed, building wagons, living in a truck, calling it a spaceship, waving at (certain) helicopters, fire trucks and police(wo)men alike, and having a puppet-like tiger around just to try and explain how and why...
Oh wait, this is being written from that tru...spaceship...as I type, and the puppet-like tiger and his token female-big-cat sidekick are in the cab...cockpit...standing guard this very moment.
And it doesn't matter how desolate, isolated, or empty of a street I park on or what hour I fall asleep, by the time I wake up to start the day, I have a very interesting fleet of vehicles of one sort or another parked around me. I like to think it's just the Secrect Service protecting my own only-now-semi-secrect-and-dirt-poor-but-semi-epic project and existence from its own fame and wake, but it could just be that 8-bit-technology-based-schiz and/or coincidence. The not-even-humanly-possible peer-selected jury is still out...
No comments:
Post a Comment