When you go for a Surgery,  it is what it is.

No one can help you Jack. Nope, not even the big man upstairs.

You better hope the Drugs Sooth Your Chaotic Mind.

Be Ye Not Afraid, it is what it is.

Ain't Nuttin’ We’s Can Do_Massa’.

Nope Again.

You are like Jesus on the Cross at this Moment.

You must bear this one on your own.

Me, well, I  may choose to stay Asleep if my time arises.

It has been a fairly interesting ride, but let’s be real hear, Evil is Spreading and though I have not given up the Fight against it thus far— If I get my way Out by any means, Not being my own fault and void of savagery, I may actually Pray 4 Peace.

It's Moving in on Us Anyway.  Why do Humans Prolong The Inevitable? Playing our poker chips and “Terror” Cards in The Game Of Thrones?

What Will Become Of You When They Put You Out?

You Have not a clue what has been done to you.

They Have Taken YOU Aboard there Plane.

They Remade your mind.

You Are Dead.

“When They Bite, They Bite Hard. They Crackle to the Bones and Disintegrate the Flesh. Every Nerve Ending Is Standing At Full Attention, waiting to send The Hell Signal Raving and Raging Through Your Useless Cover.”