What does the man in the black hat do now? The word is out and people now more then ever know who he is. Will this change the dynamic of the writing. It was true feelings and emotions typed on a page. An outlet that was stealth as was the reputation of this egomaniac. It took no courage to write these things. If a chipmunk knew that squirel knew about his shit would he still try to move on his game. I don't think so. It doesn't make sense anymore the wizard told the warlock. It makes a five dollar bill so boring that even a canadian nickle could bring a wasted sense of urgency to the black market so Miss Smith can finally have that chocolate covered pickled herring from the store she frequents on Sunday afternoons. It makes no sense to divulge the secrets of the open toed one faced man. I laugh and cry all at the same time. You don't know that pickle will always be friends with coleslaw. It just happens. I move to make the man in the black hat a figure to be figured and a lion in a sheeps loin trying to hide from breakfast on a tuesday morning. I bid farewell to the worries and will continue on my freakish adventure of clicky clack on the keyboard. Hopefully somebody will be entertained. I for one am. Rest in Peace my friends...
