Sing Your Stupid Head Off To The One's Who Are Not Listening

The displacement of one’s true self after your home has been removed, or destroyed, is an odd, light feeling.

I packed up my life, kicked the struts out from under it, and it collapsed as i ran away with my hands over my ears. The pieces floated to earth, were blown far and wide. The force of the blast also scattered the family at the beating heart of Bow. And now we are cast adrift in a sea of doubt and uncertainty.

Tonight I return to the scene of my former life to sift through the debris. We plan our attack at 2200 hours. Tomorrow we hand over the keys. On Thursday we return, with backup.

Wish Us Luck.