Spirits got up to $7 a pack so I'm smoking Drum now. Works good. And they look like joints, so I can pretend I'm having a good time. A rich lady backed into my car with her Land Rover today at the supermarket. Perfect choice of vehicle, Trickster dude. Just to nudge me a little closer to the edge. I'd just gotten the thing back from the body shop in Maryland, who did a mediocre job at best, although I'd rate it as simply bad. Still works okay. Hard to kill a '98 A3. Much easier to kill a '55 iG. The trickster's really, seriously out to get me. Relentless he is, with horror after horror after horror after horror, each worse than the preceding disaster. And it affected someone else. Bastard. My own mind ain't helping, either, nor has it ever. I must reinvent me again. Maybe then it will all be okay. Fucking void.
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