Cue the 8-Ball.

“I can’t just sit around and play anymore. I can’t dilly-dally. I don’t even have much time to write in the coming month. I’d be able to fit it all in if I were as manic I was a month ago where 2 hours of sleep was all I needed, but now everything is slowing down, including me.”

“You gotta get geared up for the longest haul yet, kiddo. It’s time. You said it yourself. Over and Over and Out”

“Yeah, but they never listened to me.”

“Stop. This isn’t about war with them anymore. You’ve already won and you know it. We all saw it on your face when you opened the eviction letter. It was a relief to you, beyond our comprehension. Who’d choose potential homelessness over a 2-bedroom apartment in a really nice town, where you have it all? You.”

“Yup. Me. It’s principle. I fight for what I uphold, love.”

“And that is precisely why you’ll make it out there, with or without government watch.”

“The IOC is up in a month. My disability case should be closed soon and decision made. It’s all up in the air.”

“Yeah. So are the Planets. And the Sun and the Moon and the Stars. And every other billionth Galaxy out there. Questioning that fact doesn’t keep them from spinning and existing.”



“You are no more and no less.”

“Well, I’m kinda a big deal, dude.”

“Don’t get sassy.”

“I can’t afford to. I kinda have to put myself in autopilot and play the game, while my head is in the clouds. I need to focus on packing, moving, tying up loose ends, preparing for the worst and visualizing the best…”

“Stop. Don’t prepare for shit. I mean, prepare for Plan A, Lizzy. But don’t prepare for the worst or the what ifs or the Plans B-Z. Like I said, you’ve made it past the impossible already and you’ve won. Negative shit doesn’t even exist in the coming months. Even if by some off chance it did, you know full well you’d survive it with a smile.”

“A great mind once said, ‘That’s what survivalists do. They see what they have left. And they make the absolute best of it. What they don’t have doesn’t even enter their minds. Not once.”

“Smart ass.”

“Thank you. But listen, everyone has splintered from the tree of life, dude. I’m serious now. All my so-called key players have disappeared, are incarcerated, or are simply not talking to me. They just vansihed. I cant find them. I know the end…the bigger picture is crystal clear…I had that vision. We thought we had high def now, holy shit, buckle up butter cup. The tribe will reunite, but as for in the meantime, I can no longer rely on their wisdom and guidance. I was warned of this. I was told to study and now I kinda have to make it on my own for a while. I have taken up this staff and decided to trudge on ahead, like, “Hung Like a Horseshoe.”

“Love, it’s like a game of pool, okay? Everyone ricochets off one another until fewer and fewer are left on the table. Once the magic 8-ball, which is you in this case, is sunk … they all reunite and get racked up again. Together. Only to be scattered again. On and on. You’ve been down this road before, genius.”

“Yeah, but the possibility of the ever-present ‘Scratch’ is always there, looming and to be perfectly honest, I’m tired of playing pool.”

“Whatever ya do, do not itch it.”


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