Deliveries

Or, the Travelling Wake of Michael Johannes.


Spent the day/night/whatever you want to fucking call it driving. To Hope. Because I'd asked Elaine for help. Bad fucking timing.
I was in Kansas. Dropped a package off with Opal. Notebooks. Not going to need them, maybe someone gets some good out of my being a crazy. Spent an hour sleeping, kept driving.
I don't have enough time. Two more to go.
I'm going to be locked out of the blog tomorrow, my own precaution, no one worry.
Well, maybe worry. It's really up to you. Every person who needs to know, I've talked to.
Or arranged for word to get to them.
Taken a while to get here, hasn't it. And I don't have enough time.
So this is... goodbye I suppose. Need to focus, long enough to get through this.

Elaine: You're a crazy, crazy person. Should get the hell out while you still fucking well can.
Some of us don't need more dead friends and you don't need to be coddled. I regret nothing. I suppose if 'I' see you again? Aim for the head, please.

Opal: I really don't suppose there's anything else worth saying at this point. Don't die.

Lis: I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. For everything. Thank you. Be safe.

Spencer: Don't fuck it up. You're better than that. Thus speaks this corpse.

Lucas: Good luck getting Joel back. Kick his ass for me. He should know better.

Joel: Hey, good job there, running off and leaving Lucas alone. Something happens to him? You know that's on you, right? Don't fucking die.

Blake & Tia: Good luck, I suppose. Sorry we didn't get along better. My fault.

I suppose the worst part is knowing, that I could have done so much more. so much. But there isn't enough time there's never enough time. I've tried, but there's really no way I'm getting out of this at this point. I'm on the way out. Goodbye, then. It's been... nice, knowing you all. I'm so sorry, so very sorry it ended like this.


i don't want to go