The poisonous grip of the mountain is loosening, but like any detox there are feelings of grief– Now we’re exposed, there’s talk of needing protection, and of going to Mexico, where whatever money we have left will last a lot longer.
But as far as I know I’m the only one who took a direct hit. The Babies saw Behemoth, they caressed and polished him in awe, but once it was determined that he didn’t work, they quickly lost interest. I know it’s only a matter of time before they rediscover him.
I want to tell you about Bruce, who saved me from the evil that came through the TV portal in the basement.
Jesse James (who now goes by the name Lil Mountain) showed up on my windowsill, skinny and inspired and wearing an ET mask as he busted the whole scope of the thing even wider, so that now I don’t know who is on what side, and if there are even sides at all.
love is telepathic
Instead of coldly calculating the correct emotional response, the most human among us are laughing out loud at the saddest parts and living strange lives as they forever reach for the golden string.
“It’s ok to try harder." I asked the other Babies if they agreed with what Em said and they said of course. That was the main message–to try. Ever since last summer when everything shifted.
And that was the first I heard of Postworld.
Lately I’ve been waking up feeling fortunate–joyful even–despite all the horror and darkness in the world. If not me, then who? I can’t make any sort of difference if I go down with the ship. And everything I’m doing now is about making a difference.