I don’t know what jumping ship looks like. Maybe Musette will be back in the restaurant industry by that point. Maybe my boss will have a new location. Maybe the numbers here will pick up, we’ll have a robotics division, there will be agents in the field, and my book will be on the shelf somewhere.
I will be standing at the bow launching hoodies from my merch cannon, bibles and the black dot, the eclipse that saved my life, the doorway to the current, a present moment revisited.
I don’t care if it doesn’t make any sense, and I don’t care if any of it ever amounts to anything. I’m flirting with despair, but she doesn’t seem very interested, so that’s all good and well. I’ve got to keep her at bay. I’ve got to keep my distance. I’ve got success in my sights, and I’m not intending to sink. I’ve got to keep telling myself that. I’ve got to keep reminding myself. These are uncharted territories. It can get to feeling pretty lonely, especially when your crew starts to get weak, depressed, distracted, or they straight depart.
Death is the enemy, and I can’t afford to lose any more of you. It is true what they say: there is strength in numbers, and there is death in desolation. You stand to get buried beneath the desert sand. A tree falling in an empty forest, an unremembered dream.
Hold to the rod. Lean into it. Though we shake upon the winds of fortune, and the waves of days beat against our hull, every step shall be in the right direction, every word we write is gospel.