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Milo Thomas
THE WANDERING ARTIST
This is the first time I've had a chance to sit down and really think about everything that's happened.
There really isn't any other way to put it. My best friend, my closest brother, my dearest lover, my little man is gone. I'm barely able to comprehend it. The man he has become, the demon he is becoming... I don't recognize him. My little man respected life. He never would have created something so carelessly. My little man was distraught when his stuffed animals were ripped. My little man considered the consequences of everything he did. His heart was always far bigger than he was. Now... Now I run from you. Hoping to find a sanctuary to raise our child, one you were so willing to throw away and destroy. What has happened to you, little man? What have you become? And what did I do to break you? Robin will never know you. That's his name. Remember? We even discussed that once. What names we would give our children. We imagined raising them together, then we looked into each other's eyes, and quickly looked away. That was before we knew we could be together. We always could have been together. That little man... I loved him with all my heart, and would have done anything to keep him safe. Now I have to protect all that is left. The only innocence you had was passed to our son. Robin will only know his father, my little man. I hope you find that boy again. That one so full of life and heart, that one who cared for others more than himself. If you find him, you will find us. Because real love, as much as it hurts, is never a waste of time.
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This came out in the latest edition of Federation Free Press. Full disclosure, I knew Cyle pretty well, so this article sort of makes me feel sick on a personal level. This deserves a close read and we should be starting to question ourselves about who we really should be offering our prayers to. Holy Murder![]() By Imad Kader Federation Free Press May 29, 2016 Seattle - Late night, early May, 2016. As with most nights in late spring, Puget Sound is covered in fog. Yet, this is nothing like most nights. The mist was colder and denser than most, and people had been warned to keep inside by the local Federation affiliate. From there, we all have heard at least some of the story. The eyewitness accounts of the seas rising and falling to intense levels, events not possible through the normal actions of the world. By morning, we had heard of the battle that had taken place, incredibly with only one person dead: Agent Cyle Jamison, 26, Homo Superior.
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Miles ThomasHow do you possibly sum up a life in a few words? I guess, that's the challenge. I'm Milo and this is my blog. It shows my interests and passions, as any blog should. I'm originally from Las Vegas, but my current location is nomadic. I am with the superior rights movement and a strong supporter of the Lilac Council, and will never pretend to be anything I am not. Categories
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