You can’t say the name of this next story. It’s a secret. And I can’t write about it either. You can’t even read it... unless you do read it... then I want you to.
Physical. Mental. Spiritual. And I think that’s the way to do it, keep upping the stats on entire ship and when they are all maxed, you become a man.
So I had the Physical. And I worked on the mental. By studying: The art of the love castle, Human Dynamics 101. Communicative art, and level 9 at giving hugs and kisses.
And I was working on the Spiritual for a while but then I met this confident, pushy, bossy, know it all chick, that spoke french and broke free from this weird world where she helped compensate for the problems of other living beings stuck in a system that had been twisted and rotted from the inside.
We had crossed the boundary into the land of no return. I biked 256 miles and drove to the bottom of the world with her. We literally watched the eyes in the darkness looking back at us and a highway overpass that had plummeted into the ocean. A road into nothing.
This is your new job now. Shepherd of the forest.
We will make it to the store to buy some more wine tomorrow.
But if not, it will have to be jack daniels.
Were getting the place ready for the princess party and the costume contest. Bobbing for apples and hay rides. Chopping out the path, one slab at a time.
I said. Yes mam. And we began our journey into what I now call.
The journey of the willow tree, the desert of the bridge, the wastelands of lockdown.
