. . mere intrusions of horrors - even in joy as I'd find out, years later - into whatever Reality was; those are what focused the development of my version of that Substance of homo sapient life. My fucking perspective.
I mean, talk about emu . . pffffft! I was swimming in it.
I don't know how to say how it was that I became alive, or exactly, much less precisely, feel that I know what to do about manifesting a new reality from the strewn 'round analogs of reality which comprise the memories of the mind enskulled atop my shoulders.
At any rate, I'll never be busted doin' this.
So I guess it could be a whole lotta worse.