i go away for like, four days in march, and when i get back it's fucking christmas in the cage with kyoto, garfield, sammura, tanta's, chicken, and the great one himself under the tree?
i'd been quietly steeling myself for the cage's expiry, taking baby steps back into life before the cage like a spinal-injury vicitim or sammura after kyoto finds her. i blew the dust off the phone, started going through my phone book and sheepishly reaching out to those who knew me in my former life to hear "who's this? james? aren't you in some cult? andrew said he heard you were in brazil getting calf implants and died in a filthy bodega-cum-operating room. well, fuck you, i didn't even hear from you when my parents were brutally, randomly murdered by a half-japanese-jew-still-at-large"

or

"sorry, the nextel number you are trying to call has been...."
so, scratch a return to sunlight, the outdoors, humanity and whatever. the enigmatic, tweaked out posts from bur are my future if the cage returns to glory, and i'm strangely at peace with that thought. so yeah, keep the cage going, otherwise, i'll go work for the bad guys killing kids with landmines under the guise of private-equity.