At home with the same ghost. I tried to get out, and the ghost pulled me back in. The ghost had me in her spell for many years. I have to reconnect with my fest self. I reckon I may be a little batty from the last two weeks. I lost one and I am watching another one go slowly.
So maybe I am set back a little by the death and the death. I have to remember I am greiving for my friends. Peoples whose house I visited, regularly. People who we lived the troubles, heartbreaks, joys, and freedom. My members primarily come from the mentally ill class. What you say is that? Its a population in our towns and cities, that is often ttimes insulted or hated, the mentally ill class. They are forced to Survive on a level that would be crime if not for there status in society. I see it in practice everyday. Struggling with a monster buerocracy to get the basic mimmimum of substenance. Where the only options is to get the cheapest poorest for you food.
So yeah maybe Im not in the party spirit. I couldn’t fake it. It is so difficult to think of these two people and not be sad. They were two characters that I was so fortuneate to spend time with.
Zen Arcade and the last of the Daddy Yanqui I am feeling ok.
I had been summoned by the Nubian lady.