I am the sickest of the sick, the divine progenitor, he who shall remain faceless and ageless. My voice and my name are all that shall carry on, like the sacred heartbeat of the whale; I remain hidden to all save those who are privileged to hear it. My mind is a twisted candy shop for the ultimate delinquent. Hear the cries of babies in the distance that is my serenade the tortured screams of a soul realizing it must begin life anew. Fear not fearless reader, the echo of time will carry us all like wave riders in a sea of melancholy bliss; the apple is there eat it if you like. Open the fourth eye the third is junk. There is no need for martyrdom in our kingdom; we are building paradise in these hollow trees. Let loose your limbs if you are willing to participate, feel the breeze, absolute weightlessness. Inside my skull where my mind used to be is simply a diseased piece of grey matter rattling around in bad thoughts. This year we’re on some villain shit.