This is not a journal.
It is a memory. It is a record. A record of the way things went wrong, because everything always goes wrong, or changes...it mutates. It is an inevitability.
Call me...Wolf. You will. If you read on, you don't have a choice. It isn't my name. But I don't have a name, to you. I have a descriptive noun.
Read on, if you want to know what happens when curiosity conjuncts with destiny.
Read on.
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