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The tides shift, the wind turns sinister, and the current wrests control of my ship. A storm is brewing, the kind of storm that changes a life and sinks ships. A storm I will have to face without /pcg/ and without Dizzy... I can't promise when or if I will be back, everything is blanketed by an ever thickening sea fog. What I can promise is that I will sail my best and should worst come to be, (You) will know. I wish my last few days /here/ could have been better, but it's almost poetic that things have turned out this way. Goodbye, good luck, and Godspeed /pcg/.
Never forget, the bedbugs bite because they care.
