TOUCHMEDONOTTOUCHMEIAMALIVE

Monday, November 2, 1970

Fig. 026

It seems he has returned to us, world. Rejoice in his clamoring. The retelling of this one may not be so gruesome. I expect he'll return to the ship soon.

My saint,

I dreamed of you. Of us. They still seem less real though coming true has followed through. I'm not sure where I'm taking it, and I am more than frightened. It makes no sense to me how I can seem so lost when with every dream before I felt so in control. Love on a new level has set me back and I'm scared of you. You have some fancy control over me, and by it I am enamored and thrilled, but also terrified. What if let you take it all and then you leave. It's an issue I have. Maybe this magnificent return of past to present will tangle it up and tear it out of me. I want you to have it, but I can't seem to let go. A blade to remove the grip will set upon the machine and let the cogs return to spinning. Come into me so I may come into you. I crave you like a wolf does, and I need you to know me as a garden. This time I will be the rose. I will be beautiful for you. I cannot let this fear of recession to the rear of your mind drag me down. I must remain steadfast at the forefront and fight back every terror. It has been ages and still I live. Welcome to dust. Welcome to rebirth.

Forever great,
Admiral Admiral