Narrative Counterbalance

recorded in early 2018. Not disclosing mod list.

recorded in early 2018. Will not disclose mod list.

recorded in early 2018. Will not disclose mod list.

Your wasting one of Out last hours as a country on this?! Minnesota, New York, Denton Texas, Dearporn Michican't? Wherever they are, ICE gotta muzzle 'em... their vestal virgs. ain't worffit... Enduring this planet's mental collapse, since my eve only WANTS to hold my head up high, since she can't place those rags upon my jagged broken spine... what is affordable..? because a ford truck can't do anything that a ford focus can... Ever been a friend to a guy named Stephen Friend? What's a friendzone? what's a timezone? What's a comfortzone? what is a plannit? if a world's weatherzones come from its axial tilt, then where is an atlas? If geology and georaphy had kids, then what's an earthsign? if astrology is logical and astronomy is LoveCraftian, then where will an entire country go if buildings are reduced to mountains, while rainforests are still undeveloped? If God once told a man to moo, did that man laugh instead? Was God mad at him? If moohahmad isn't more dead in this dae and age, then what kind of spirit is more at war when hamas finally tastes like hummus, or when curry isn't a laxative? if Jerusalem was God's chosen kingdom for Yahwae, then what r allah u fecal-people doin in our streets? color schemes and color coordination are one thing, but the muzzle of a rifle is better when aimed at a moose-limbed fanatic who conspires that God and allah are the same person... Christ ain't cumming for anybody until this place is fit for the approval of a Kreist King. I bet you wasted another of Our hours watching my mind take a dump... What are you?! ask yourself that question for the rest of your day - for the remainder of your fuckin' for all I caer; not much left of it, right?

Modlist will not be disclosed in: the forests of what once wuz...

Are you wasting your hours or Ours? [My pseudonyms are of my own intellectually personal creativity, don't steal it from me, please...] The sterility of his isolation was molding him into the entity he had destroyed only fourteen months back; slowly, he'd come to terms with such an admission. There in his encampment, the retired Sentinel continues to try renewing his empty life, only for the misery of loss to show its face yet again... His manufacturing business was hardly worthy of any note either, since he learned very early on that he alone could never manage an entire 50,000 square foot warehouse. He'd make preparations to send reinforcements to the over-run theme park, but his hope of redeeming this world would soon fall away entirely...

In the pitt of his remaining efforts, he'd revert back to how he should've carried the little smear of fecal matter down into that oversized vat of everfrost, as the entitled 'cryolator' is what his hound of flesh would thieve; the implications from Vault-Tec would shriek volumes through his severed conscience... However...