In all apparent disorder, my nostalgia lingered for the warm glow of a future before it all went sideways and mad, as ever, exactly twenty-nine minutes ago. Then I remember: this mission was far from over. Pacts were made – countless acquaintances struck – the stars shot into the boundless infinite… curiosities echo anew into this sacred night, as I take a cold shower under Cassiopeia and the stars. The bonfires on the beach rage on, illuminating our faces with that primitive fiery glow in the constant swirl of the sand. The Sirens of the Caribbean lull me to sleep under the pale scant light of the crescent moon. The Aztec Warrior Princess appears to me in a dream and stays to watch me wake. Thenceforth she remains – there will be no more dead ends, my gaze transfixed on the Western Spider Star. Some encounters filled my stomach with dragonflies, like magic that can never end. I have communed with the Mayan Mystic – drank the blood of all those Gods within me and before me in this jungle of the ancients. Jaguars run with stealth through the jungle of my plight, crossing me both ways – my blood sizzles in anticipation of what lies beneath all of it, every last drop. My sensors are on cruise control… and I never dare hit the brake. There are simply no words to express it all. I am truly grateful to once again feel anything at all, let alone the overwhelming waves of peace crashing on the shore behind me. So I entreat you, dear mystical priestess of the night – please… Cancel The Apocalypse.