Max Graves

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Brutus. My name is Brutus, and my name means heavy.

I am suffocating under the weight of myself.

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Blocked, blocked, blocked. All of you are blocked. None of you are free from sin.

All of you are blocked. None of you are free from sin.

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Popcorn stand at the six car pile up. Why are we so fascinated with failure?

Has our collective empathy been so depleted that the only thing that brings us together is bonding over our common enemies? Are we that desensitized?

The answer is yes, and then yes again.

Who am I? And why should you care?

During the modern atomic age that we’ve been thrust into, connections will house us like a fortified nuclear bunker [...] If nothing else, I hope reading them makes you feel less alone, even if just for even a split second.

Who am I? And why should you care?

The answer to this question is, simply: I don’t know.

The answer to the second part of that question is, once again, I do not know.

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I am fluent in nonsense. In fact, I am made of novelty. If you were to cut me open, you would find a rubber chicken filled with a never-ending rainbow handkerchief. I do not have jester's privilege, I have jester's authority.

I am infinite.

I am insufferable.

Testing... #writersky