4/17/2020 – Obviously, I’m quite jealous of Neil Gaiman, the only entertainer I still wish I could be instead of myself.

A return to the Kingdom of Dreams.  I’m feeling more like myself.  I’m still having terrible rants against St. Germain, more vicious every day.

I was looking at the Museum of Contemporary art website, contemplating tickets for the David Bowie exhibit, and I saw that Neil the Special Faggot is back, reading a story on the last night of the exhibit.  Perhaps I should get tickets for one in the afternoon and then wait at the door for the last-minute entry.  I was looking at the picture of him and thinking about all these fantasies I have about Ravenclaw, Helena and Tim.  How strange they are.

I think they can disappear, though.  The dark cloud can go.  I could try to get control of my finances again.  I’ve moved my Log to this blog.  The magic is all on me now.  A brief image of [someone I used to know who channeled a version of Alice Cooper from another dimension].  Yes they were really doing magic.  An end to the story?

A scene of myself and Jody in High School.  As I write this a presence comes down to me.