Imagine yourself to be a slab of fat meat. Now image there is a giant fucking meat grinder spinning away with sparks shooting out of its sides — creaking and bowing, eagerly waiting to shred something. Now imagine tomorrow’s jobs report as being the boot that kicks your sloppy ass into said grinder — finished for good.
We’ve come a long way since Xmas and the bulls have gotten very fat. They’re obnoxious and deserving of the meat grinder — because they’re not good people and they don’t know what’s coming.
A great storm is just around the bend. It will rip everything from root to crown, leaving a heaving mess of ruins — tumult.
I’d like to see you get through it; but first, UPGRADE TO ANNUAL.
Everything I’ve done and gone through has led me to this point, the ephemeral moment when everything counts — nothing taken for granted — zero betrayals and only dignity and honor to fall back upon when things get hard.
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