cormac raze god damn you. you were supposed to live forever. i own six of the twelve novels you wrote. i've only read one of them. but the stain that book left on my soul will never fade. now you are what you wrote about — "the ashes of the late world carried on the bleak and temporal winds to and fro in the void. carried forth and scattered and carried forth again." long may you move through the words you chained together like wild dogs beaten into sad-eyed poets by the violence of living. 230615 what's it to you? who go blather from