Vision without action is a dream. Action without vision is a nightmare. We should remember this.

The wind whistling through boarded-up windows. Tumbleweeds scratching across dry, sandy tracks. That's how towns die. Not with a bang, but with whispers and whimpers.

Don't matter how much perfume a corpo sprays on mornings, by lunch that's replaced by the stench of skullduggery.

V: Bug, ya could at least try to be... nice.
T-Bug: You want nice, supportive? Call a damn helpline.

Be alone with my thoughts? Near on unachievable these days.