The gist of the plot: My prodigal brother Art and I; ex womb-mates, are reunited at last. Once upon a time, I kicked Art from our womb-space far into the future from whence returned, is Art.
Art’s return in a most miraculous intervention may be in time (perhaps), to help the antiheroic me save planet Earth, in spite of myself; winning for Vlad and me — Nobels — all thanks, to Art.
Much coveted Nobels along my tortured, and torturous, way. It would have featured both, a happy and an unhappy ending. But that’s all been rendered moot, by an alien — epiphany.
An epiphany; it beyond a revelation. Haim said, the aliens said, that we’re not ready, for them. Since Haim‘s December’s revelation, I have had — revelations and I have had — epiphanies.
Suddenly all issues have been mooted by an alien plan, long ongoing. To weaken us with a virus then watch us be ravaged by an NEO, collision but Art and I plan Earth saving for free.
On my quest to be, Vlad Putin’s GOAT. See @chachomanopapa.com for a blog composed from the tweets at Arthur’s school of Free Poetry @chachomanopapa on Twitter. It’s free.