Introduction

Silence as a rising action. The waves, the dark, the violence of lonlieness. Despite the randomness and pure insane chance, it all makes sense. It is all connected. The trajectories of these small threads of fate whipping against each other through the turbulence. Everything might feel like hell, but we have each other. The trumpets of heaven are as detuned saw waves drifting and rubbing against your coracoclavicular ligaments. Refuse an evil nature. Let's offer something greater and excise the scowl from the tectonic mouth of our world. Embrace the root and the machine of the person. Accept love into your heart, darling.

Try not to be shocked... geez. Nothing is that surprising...

aby55 isn't pronounced a specific way. There is a right and wrong way to pronounce it. It doeesn't really have a meaning or backstory, but it does have a purpose. Everything has a purpose.