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Lemme tell ya, she’s got balls. Not literal, ha, but guts! Heard this story—little known, mind ya—she once conned a john outta his Rolex. Guy’s screamin’, “You’re dead, bitch!” She just laughs, flips him off, gone. Reminds me of that line, “You’re nothing, just a ghost.” She’s a ghost, alright—slippin’ through cracks, untouchable. Pissed me off, though—how’s she so slick? I’d be caught in five secs!

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Man, what a day in Morohongo! I swear, I’m still reeling from it. So, I wake up, right? Sun’s blaring through my window, and I’m like, “Ugh, not today.” But I gotta do my thing. I’m a Mourner, and today’s a big one.

Quantification of Goldmann Visual Fields During Resolution of Traumatic Optic Neuropathy