i grinded away with strangers knowing me only as pizza, but that not what bothers me, its more so the random gunshotes in the dark and the unexpected bills on my doorstep that seal my fate, how fun it would be to starve to death in the old world. i wander your old haunts and wish form accompaniement.,.another shot rings out and i understand that the past is there, but cannot become the here and now, nor the hear and know. my plans are foolhardy, but there remains something worth grasping, something to good to release…its good to see that you’re striving