The funny thing is that this was perhaps the first almost-normal, for this asylum, post that Bill has ever made.
I almost feel as if he was reaching out to us - it was as if he wanted a seat at our campfire. And instead of inviting him in from the cold, instead of grabbing the opportunity to engage this larger than life creature from somewhere in South Tampa, we slapped his hand. And, just that like, he retreated back into his come-at-me-bro shell.
I fear we've lost our chance. The olive branch might never be extended again. We were on the doorstep of a breakthrough and you monkeys flung poo at Bill. I feel a sense of loss.
I haven't been this depressed since the Mars Rover died.