Self- Empowerment

Slick the roof tops with grease. It hardly matters. My scaling days were a flourish of youth. Adjudgments have been made to showcase a cleverness that is amenable to sprouts of gray. Bolt the doors and reinforce them with heavy furniture. This will not be the drag out affair of your preparation. Though I still maintain a boast of resurrecting an older methodology of brutishness. My hope is that you would step outside without the theatrics of a holdout. Superstition is typically last ditch. So I fully expect a yar studded with ancient shamanic trinkets. They have not warded off so much as a crow. Yet targets are spiritually selected, so I do commend the Helter Skelter nature of your panicked improvisation. My pity especially rests upon those who hand their wealth over to the local hardware store thinking I can be duped out of mission. Perhaps blacking out the windows with duct tape is suppose to dissuade me from peering into your living situation. There is a knowledge that comes from the eyes, and understanding that arrives from patterns collected before you know I was a thing. It's choreography. I have created a dance that made you believe every step of this tactical retreat was your idea. Right down to threatening signs that couldn't be any more of a lit torch announcing the whereabouts of shaken myth maker. I know where you keep the rolls of wall paper and what they are meant to conceal by the design of a modern athletic. The unevenness that plaster hides, I can see. What the insulation blocks, I can feel. Combination locks prevent the secrets that I am already privy to. It's not about the big reveal. That has it's own dramatic flair. This entire adventure is about making you curate your own destruction. It is an evergreen curtesy I permit all clients.