Dream: Her.

There are many hers but I have to continue as I have interest in them and her. Who knows what to do. I tell the blog viewers its okay but its not, its a ruin. I draw a bunch of girls on my floor and I smell a scent different than all the ones ever before and I find myself again as the individual in where danger is coming for me-to kill me and comes in the form of a vulgar man. Yet I am not afraid. What is yet so annoying. Is the other vulgar folks inside and out who support the infidel.

I refuse yet again to die and outside as it rains on me, I wish to be better and greater so I can escape these abusive grips of society and just be me and no one else. No one else. I will not be some cyber fake. I hope that actually when I write this when I talk of cyberpunk, some people know it and some people do not know of it all and its just an act. No, pushing the ever creative conscious limits is the craft and by doing this all as I descent against death like a sleeping dagger.
You will not see me as I dream of her and them all.