Hey man. Thanks for hanging in there with me. And thank you for inviting me to your inner sanctum. I like what you've done with the place. It reminds me of Spencer Gifts, circa 1979. The black light poster of a psychedelic cobra is especially wicked. Probably my favorite next to the one of Farrah in the wet t-shirt. Folks here are still suckers for lava lamps, but I see you're more into the wiggling filaments mounted to soda-pop cans. Really entrancing.

Look, I'm sorry I haven't been as proud of you as I ought to. The world I live in... it can get pretty rough. Lots of judgement and criticism coming at me from all sides. Real stakes, too. I've lost friends, colleagues, jobs... rewards of society... all in the wake of moments when you took over. But let's be clear... none of that is your problem, and it's not your fault. Because I need you. You give me all the unique and brilliant qualities required to live a gratifying, creative, and purposeful life filled with surprises, alchemy and evolution. And the place where you live... it deserves to be a good place for you. A place you feel valuable. A place you feel loved. I haven't done a good job protecting you from my world. That's on me... that's my bad. I collaborated with enemies on the outside to persecute you on the inside. That stops now.

Welcome home, bud.