The laboratory is closed bunker.
The state closed my site to search as I feared.
The reason is that pollution emanating from the body of Ivanka could cause a pandemic of zombie vagina.
I was able to escape just before the intervention of special forces, without doubt they would have zero napalmé as the remains of my assistants.
After wandering in suburbands for a few days, I came to this congregation of refugees living in some huts, made of odds and ends.
The camp is located between two motorway junctions.
Every day hundreds of cars and trucks pass next to us without even suspecting our presence.
Refugees go day and night to reach the capital near besogner, then return to the camps to practice their lifestyle.
Such do theater between two job as a waiter, another diver is under restoration and talented philosopher, next to me that intellectual slave will do a headstand and just now pose as nude model.
They are the ones who welcomed me, fed, assisted and provided the few human instruments I needed to attempt to compile what I could save my research.
But I gave up compiling anything, the Vulcan project died with Trina.
Maybe I've been duped by my ego, my thirst for knowledge, exacerbated by my appetite.
Maybe I got lost and forget what mattered most, life, just this beauty.
My approach to science itself has been challenged by these people, I remembered other emotions, have discovered new, at how much more tasty than my alignments and spiritual problems of ego-rhythm.
So I give up this life as a researcher, to begin that, perhaps finder.
Professor Vulcan,
The state closed my site to search as I feared.
The reason is that pollution emanating from the body of Ivanka could cause a pandemic of zombie vagina.
I was able to escape just before the intervention of special forces, without doubt they would have zero napalmé as the remains of my assistants.
After wandering in suburbands for a few days, I came to this congregation of refugees living in some huts, made of odds and ends.
The camp is located between two motorway junctions.
Every day hundreds of cars and trucks pass next to us without even suspecting our presence.
Refugees go day and night to reach the capital near besogner, then return to the camps to practice their lifestyle.
Such do theater between two job as a waiter, another diver is under restoration and talented philosopher, next to me that intellectual slave will do a headstand and just now pose as nude model.
They are the ones who welcomed me, fed, assisted and provided the few human instruments I needed to attempt to compile what I could save my research.
But I gave up compiling anything, the Vulcan project died with Trina.
Maybe I've been duped by my ego, my thirst for knowledge, exacerbated by my appetite.
Maybe I got lost and forget what mattered most, life, just this beauty.
My approach to science itself has been challenged by these people, I remembered other emotions, have discovered new, at how much more tasty than my alignments and spiritual problems of ego-rhythm.
So I give up this life as a researcher, to begin that, perhaps finder.
Professor Vulcan,




