While trying to decide how best to update this page, a thought occured to me... The Apostale is just a bitter, tired old man. My connection with the world has been rekindled, the torch has been lit. Let us play....

I started screaming, on the porch, in the morning, when I woke.

I continued screaming, then I stopped.

No one was listening.

I was wasting my breath.

Wasting my words.

Wasting whatever was convenient.

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