To you, Mecella.
I have served, and now I game.
Of course I am Bran.
A journeyman is how it all started.
What was I? Who was I? How could I?
I didn’t know, and no one taught me.
So I learned, and I became more than me.
I became a whole other identity.
Look at me, but you don’t care. So I stare, you bear thee.
The economy isn’t what I should be so focused on.
But lifting dreams, and moving beams. I’m not lost.
I’m not myself.
Marvel, and the likes of comic books have made me develop a world that,
well, I guess it’s just a book of poems now.
The greatest book of poems ever.
I didn’t mean to hurt anyone on my path.
And if I did, I’m sorry. I love North America.
I am an American of The United States of America,
but I love North America.
I love the continents, all of them truly.
But does it matter, Bran? Does one care?
I don’t know, because I am so held back. . . .
Now I’m Brandon Builder.