I walk back to my chambers.

Get your head straight! I say, slapping myself on the face.

There are other realms within each realm.

I know who you are, some of you, the readers. I am the narrator, teller of stories. I have been unreliable – so vague. That’s a sign of cowardice, if you ask me. I’m here, within my story, with all the characters: Jesus, walking amongst the followers of God.

There I go, spilling all my beans to Lilli, when I should be spilling them to y’all everyone. All y’all who’s in on the story. With me, following along.

Here I go again, procrastinating. Sleep was so close just a second ago…

But lilli. She has grown, changed, shifted.

Oh my god, et… Like, who even is he anymore. Pain pills, or something – a workplace injury. Now he’s like investigator Moth, taking on all the cases, shooting down sluts, here with me in the outside, and Lili. Reginald, that’s what I’m going to call her, the saint mother. She is up on stage, proclaiming currentivism, alt lit, calling me Noah, mingling with other prophets or popes. I don’t know where Pringles is. I’ve only got the slightest word. I’ll call him Laertes. I’ve got the potential for new friends, here on twitter, where everyone lives in Brooklyn. But, I mean, I’m on WordPress. But I’ve got a twitter. Like a little blue bird which flies up and ties all my messages in the sky. One last thing, before I go. Galaxim is writing songs and people are liking them. He had evil in him when he came back from the dead: his goblet gulp. This should give him even further satiation.

That’s all I’ve got energy for right now. The wireless tower near me was taken down. I am stripped down to phone use only. But New York is so close. I don’t know how I’m handling myself so composedly. I feel like David before Goliath, or should I say, I am David before Goliath, and I’m afraid I might get butchered.

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