November 27th, 2003
It's Thanksgiving and I just may have something to be thankful for.
Word has it that there is a wealth of energies hiding somewhere in this sleepy little Pacific Northwest suburb, a virginal source just waiting for me to have my way with it.
Whispering Pines, doesn't the name just scream mediocre?
I grow weary of all these backwards towns and I think the feeling is mutual. I couldn't find a vacancy in the main downtown area so I had to settle for a rundown, rat trap in an industrial district of some type. My first night and I've already worn out my welcome.
If all goes well, my work will be rewarded. I'm not sure what it was but I felt something as I drove into town. I feel this will be it, Ripper. The fountain I've been waiting for. I will drink from it, it will heal me and I will find you.
But for now, I settle on examining the handy guide I've collected from the local tourist information center while I attempt to find something to watch on the bloody wreck of a telly. Useless thing only tunes in the WB. I'm seriously considering cursing the damned network. But then I reconsider on account they surely serve some untold evil hell-bent on chaos. I respect that so the curse is within a holding pattern... for now.