Losing my facebook account to Humans on Earth kind of sucked. You'd think I wouldn't care right? I mean these were TC's friends, and its not like TC didnt't find another guy (Thom) to take over from another dimension, but its isn't the same thing. I was able to talk to people as ME, not as some random potato weird guy from the Republic of Americastan. It hit me a lot harder than I would have thought.
So I'm moving back to New Orleans, at least for a while. The Everglades are just not the same quality of swap as Lousisiana. I return to my old shack only to find it condemned. No big deal to me. I just tear off the boards but suddenly realize that this is not so easy as just returning home.
I don't have a job here any more. My occasional busking or sheer luck or ability to see supernatural creatures has made me enough money to survive in Miami, but there is nothing here. And I can hear the shelling in the distance. The war has started all over again, shortest peace in North American history. And I don't want anything to do with it.
I briefly wonder if I should learn what EP has about how to physically travel between worlds, but decide against it. It seems to come at a terrible price, even if I am unsure what that might be. I briefly consider some of my contacts and astrally project on the Bridge to Everywhere and ask them if they have any local contacts.
I find a Talking Harp (not a singing, don't ever ask her to sing) who knows a local Nephilim who is looking for a pizza delivery driver for some SELECT clientelle and it pays pretty well. It's not perfect, but it will keep the kerosine lamps on. A job is a job is a job.
Monday, July 18, 2016
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