Good evening or whatever the hell time it is over there in your living room or on that train ride to the job you hate so much as you sit across from that stained masked human who appears to inhale only smog, pasta sauce, and poop particles.

My name is @NoNamesLeftToUse The Writer/Artist Himself and I'm fairly sure that's the stupidest name you've ever heard but by now you've already forgotten it.

It's been a long while.

And I've come unprepared for anything.

First of all, just know I didn't sell any of those tokens I had on powerdown for the entire time I was gone and I'll most likely put them back where they belong, maybe.

So you can relax now, and stop thinking I'm a traitor or a trader or something even more sinister:

A rich prick.

Alas, I was lost in a forest somewhere, miles away from any internet connection, wearing nothing but the socks I was lucky enough to find on the ground next to a pile of what smelled like human shit, or maybe bear, but I'm not sure, because I don't know my shit.

I had been rehearsing for an episode of Naked and Afraid...

That was the only line of bullshit I had in my arsenal when the nature and wildlife police pulled up to ask me if I was okay.  Apparently there were reports of another sasquatch in the area which was probably just me under the influence of poor lighting, a greasy lens, and my second to last bottle of tequila.

Of course I wasn't okay.

To this day, I still don't know why they believed me, to the point of just staring at my cock as if they've never seen one that small before, then driving off, leaving me there to suffer what was soon to be the hangover from hell; but if I told them the truth and they found out who I am, it would have been all over the local news, my cover would have been blown, then I'd have to find a new place to be invisible and away from all things fucked up in this world, which isn't cool.

'At least now I know better'

Meaning: I won't ever have to be so cold, wet, hungry, dirty, cut up, bloody, lost, soiled, sick and dehydrated with mushrooms growing out of my ass, ever again, because the drunk tank is a resort hotel compared to the disaster that is a drunken bushcraft adventure alone without even having the brains to pack a lunch, and now I'll know for next time.

Honesty goes a long way.

So I should probably stop bullshitting now and attempt to explain the real reason why I was gone for so long.

But I don't really want to talk about jail because my ass hasn't fully healed yet and I can still see his face when I close my eyes.

Just kidding.

It healed.

Still kidding.

I wasn't locked up.

Honestly, it's been so long since I last wrote to you, I don't think I know how to do it anymore.  I just know if I place enough words here and maybe a few pictures, nobody will suspect I'm faking it.

"Nice post," they'll say, and I'll be all like, "Thank you" in the most deepest of manly voices similar to my cellmate's once he finally let me sleep.

Just kidding.

Getting back to reality though, I must say it's nice to see you folks haven't burned the place down yet, though I see some were trying, which is nothing unusual, so I thought I'd bring my fire extinguisher along but that didn't go as planned either.

I somehow managed to forget platform politics drive me batshit crazy which was the goal:

To forget about all this stuff driving me crazy and get away for a bit.

Since I forgot it drives me crazy, I forgot to remember to steer clear upon my return.  So now I'm crazy again but I'll be okay.

It all happened so fast.

That's what I'd be saying if it was my mission to set the place ablaze because I actually know how to use a lighter.  So you'll never see me running around with my hair and clothes on fire screaming it's your fault this happened, as I melt into a heap of nothingness, never to return from the ashes again, like so many others who only know how to burn themselves when it gets too hot in the kitchen.

But why must I always play with the fire...

My life has been a complete shit-show but when I left it was an incomplete shit-show so I'm glad that's over.

I've vanished several times across the span of the five years I've been a part of this scene.

Only when it appears things are going well for me — at least on the surface — while making damn sure to respect the roads and bridges we've built together, will I feel comfortable taking a step outside.

In other words: I like to leave on a good note.

Though I don't announce my departure, every time I go, I leave a massive clue directly under your noses.

I gave my word, long ago.  When I leave, you can relax, because I will be back.
^{And if don't come back it's because I'm probably dead and they haven't found my body yet.}

On to the next episode.

I realize most of you have grown accustomed to coming here to read about things that actually matter in this world like that time a duck bit my pecker at the park because I fucked a loaf of bread and forgot to wipe the scent off, but for some strange reason, I've been having difficulties taking life seriously again.

Much like how so many of you out there have no clue who I am, I too have lost touch with myself.

So for the past week or two I've been touching myself nonstop just to get a feel for things again and see if I'm ready to glaze your eyeballs with some of that special art I tend to produce when I get excited.

I actually splurged.

Bought some new hardware.

Thinking: Yeah, I'm going get back into writing and being an artist or at least calling myself one so people think I have talent and treat me like I'm famous again but for sure I have to remember to avoid utilizing run-on sentences in ways that could send the reader gasping for air somehow even though I think it's funny however they might not think it's funny passing out because that's how you lose an eyebrow where I come from and in order to be successful in this industry it's always best to keep your victims alive for as long as possible rather than putting them out of their misery right off the bat then sticking it in their corpse.

So yeah a new device but so far all I've used it for is porn.  Or so I thought.  You see, apparently, to actually make money in the porn industry, one must remove the lens cap and turn the webcam on.  Not just sit there and whack off to a laptop wondering why everyone is complaining about a black screen that only sounds like fapping but doesn't look like fapping unless it's dark outside.

That went on all day every day for several days before I even noticed there was a problem.

When you do it on the bus, everyone stares, so I thought it would be easy money, but there is a bit of a learning curve on the laptop, so I just went back to doing it on the bus, because I think learning is stupid and I know my audience.

Other than that I haven't really been overly busy aside from the odd adventure to the grocery store to cough on the grapes and count dirty looks.

Dayum

Thems jokes is corny.

I just finished reading all that up to here just like you did.  What the fuck am I doing with my life...

So in reality, I didn't leave because of problems on or with the platform.  My private life was filling me with stress and I needed to vanish to be alone with the thoughts requiring more time to process, carefully, without distractions.  Thoughts meant for me.  Thoughts not worth placing out on display, or sneaking between the lines, or tucking inside your subconscious mind waiting to be discovered once I'm gone for the final time; as I sit wondering how it can be, nobody will notice, until then.

As the days progress, one week turns into two.  Then it's a month later.  Next thing you know it's full blown winter and, holy shit!  Where did the time go?

Took it with me, since it was mine.

I struggle sometimes to find reasons to keep going but yet, I never stop, nor do I want to stop, so I'm glad the stop signs of this world are all an illusion.

It only wants you to pause and take a moment for yourself.  Never complains when you go.

Was a good break.  Completely offline, away from all these distractions caused by daily device dementia.  Truly did spend a few days and nights lost in the forest.  Truly did find a pair of shitted up socks next to someone's bush emergency, but I didn't put them on.

Watched the entire season of Autumn, fall, before my very eyes.

Away from all the chaos that is this new world, I find it difficult to see the end of it now, unlike so many trapped within the despair they'd been force fed for so very long, becoming obese on ideas lacking nutrients.

Felt so dead inside being overly exposed to so many problems these devices place under the spotlight that is the world view without a window and no real desire to look.  Always thought the future would be so bright but now that it's all in the past, I'm glad it didn't last.

I struggle to find joy in living days identical to the days before.  Even the clouds all know never to be the same.  Chaos is beautiful, by design, and I think I'm in love with it.

Feeling on top of the world is easy when one looks down and can actually see what's beyond their feet without feeling like there needs to be more.  Good to keep the footprints behind though and continue to look ahead but even when one stops, they're still moving.

On to the next thing.

Please feel free to stop in and say hello.

Like with every fresh start and all new beginnings, I truly don't know what to expect.  Unsure if those who've taken such a fond interest in my presence and offerings are even around anymore to witness the travelling circus that is my mind.

I'm seriously considering getting back into this.  But it's a lot of work.

I've yet to make a decision.  Still on the fence.  Just wanted to come home for the holidays.  Wanted you all to know I'm alive and well, or at least well enough to be here and say it.

Unfortunately, the world.

After spending several months completely offline and away from, damn near everything, I really started to enjoy it.  It's hard to talk about.  Difficult to explain.  I come from a happier time.  In general, people on the internet are not happy.  This is something one notices the instant you turn it on.  I felt my soul get sucked right out of me and heard my brain fill with noise, with the push of a button.

I feel so fucking dead inside.  It's so strange.  I miss the sound of nothing in the morning.  Been away from more than just the internet though.  I was alone, and did a really good job of becoming friends with myself again.  I've often struggled to enjoy who I am so it was nice to get to know me.  It was nice to calm down.  I felt new and improved.

All that got sucked right out of me.  And the world or nature or god or science or whatever the fuck it is that places the ideas inside the mind one does not create on their own; trying to convince me to feel hated and worthless.

All I want to do is run from it.  Wild and free.  As my mind races and my thoughts scatter while I bounce around from frown to frown, I fell down.

I'll need to pick up the pieces and put this puzzle back together before I can be what you folks out there most likely expect of me, consistently.

My pain, should not hurt you, but my honesty was all I could do.

Just kidding.

Have a nice day.

Credits:All art and images seen here were produced digitally, by me.
_{"Or was I?"}

^{© 2021 @NoNamesLeftToUse.  All rights reserved.}