Dan Auerbach. When I
Left the Room.
Sven Slindlivrenn stopped at the red light by the
hostibal. Fresh from Swizzleland, he
knew a thing or two about hostibals.
Folks in them hostibals were sick, or they were dying. He’d had enough of that. He had no need for either
of them.
He had caused many to be that way.
He had escaped Swizzleland.
As he sat at the red light, waiting for it to turn to green,
his passenger-side car door opened, and a large dude in a tank top, shorts,
sandals and a blue doctor’s lab coat jumped in.
Always beware of the blue doctors.
Just kidding. You
know me.
Seen looked over and smiled at Sven.
Sven about shit his pants.
Poor Sven. He had not
come to Amerika for this shitzen. He had
escape Swizzleland because of his own atrocities there. He left before he would get caught. It was
imminent.
But now he wanted to escape from his own vessel, there in
Fuckno, Californone , USA
The large guy reached over and offered his hand to shake. He said, “Hi there! How are you?
My name is now evidently Sean!
What’s yours?”
Sven understood immediately that he was in the presence of a
deranged individual.
He did not know that this sort of deranged individual was a
Walkin.
When you are in the presence of a deranged individual, (and
this is important and true for you, baby, wherever you travel)
You must not disagree with them.
Your hairs will rise up on the back of your arms and your
neck, and you will get the fucking willies.
People in the occupations of those who work at hostibals,
along with first responders, emergency rescuers, police officers every day,
firefighters, and, of course, our awesome United
States military folks: These dedicated
people witness stuff that you and I are fortunate to not witness on a daily
basis.
These people are trained to respond immediately. There is no need to describe the ugliness of their
daily experience.
That would give you nightmares.
You should say a prayer toward their mental well-being and
offer thanks for the work that they do for the rest of us, so you can go watch
the latest version of Jersey Shore
The Features. Whatever Gets You By.
Sven Slindliverinn
Dude was a badass, in his own way. No one knew it just yet.
But he didn’t have his gun in his shitty car, there and
then.
He had left it at his shitty apartment.
His instincts took over.
He accepted Seen’s hand and said, “I’m Sven. Good to meet you.”
He awaited the next response from the crazy dude.
You never ask a crazy person anything: you simply respond to
them in a non-threatening manner, with non-meaning-words.
You look for the next
possible escape route, without letting them see you do it.
Here’s one way you can do this:
You rub your forehead with your hand, and underneath the
edge of your hand, you apprise their weaponry situation, and after, you must
look for something solid but not huge that is within reach.
You will not have much time.
When you are encountering such a shitty situation, you listen to your Fear.
Your Fear is the self-preservation instinct that is
hard-wired into your brain, your body with the hairs all going up, from your
DNA at the cellular level.
We have been creatures of self-preservation for billions of
years before we became sentient. If you
are a non-believer of evolution, then it was a hunnert years ago or so…
Amos Lee does Sweet Pea.
Listen to your instinct, and it may save you if you heed it.
Your intellect will try to rationalize it away. You may pray.
Prayer is good and all, but take action.
Do not rationalize your instinct away.
You can survive.
You will have to fight for your life.
You must fight for your life, if you want to live a while
longer.
If you attempt to flee, you will die.
You simply must fight.
What do you think Sven did?
God Help You.
God Help Us All.
---willies out.
.
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