>>78347195I sometimes wonder what goes on in your life, Scrapper. Who are you past that trip if there truly is such a man as you? What dreams do you dream, in which house do you call yourself home, what life do you live before turning into a long sleep upon bed of cotton or a possible cot resting, hooked inside of a dark, cold shack, maybe even a pillow on cold, dark stone outside the room of the one you call Him? Have we met or will we ever at least once past one another on the paths into town, without so much as a glance towards the other? Would you look upon me if you knew? Would you cast a stone towards my gullet or simply pick up your trot? I ask aloud to the heavens above surely both of us in your favor: When the screen turns black and the machine whirls down for the final night as the light stops it's incessant blinking, will we ever truly know where you've gone or if you are gone or where you'll be. I wish and pray for your soul to rest easy before that day but have great hope and even pride knowing before and against all others that we will meet and both be full of merry and warmth on the highest peaks of the mountains in the eternal trails. My heart stays strong for you, Scrapper, you beautiful, however unwell, friend. May you know peace and love at least from me.
