To my Brother Syd

How I wish I can say you're here now, brother Syd, because everything has just began. The psychedelic colors that you've wished and experimented before, though for me its the marvelous architectural formation of the novel, is just starting to get form.

The niggers in my dick and monkeys are all off my back now -- an almost three years of subtle planning and scheming with a help of a friend. I took the risks, didn't I? I tried to force the condition (again) through articifial means, but unlike you, I have learned how to swim and avoid getting drowned, which you, fortunately did.

My brother Syd, we are dreamers -- dream chasers -- and on how far my journey will take me to fulfill my own, may the soul of the universe Sila stand by my side and guide me with her words: Sila ersinarsinivdluge.

A Trace of A Planned Stealth Writing

The place is already a ghost town, and now finally the story will be told. Don't know it I can or how long I can give it a try to get a crack at it. Drat! Can't write without the "it."

Nevertheless, this song is apt to get the muse going while I acclimatize myself to the lower ground.

Lose Youself by Eminem