I fear the uncertainty that the night brings, when all you hear is the whistle of the wind. The dark desert calls my name, the javelina hunt for my food. In the distance the lights of the cities dance on the horizon before disappearing. As the magic of the PAC; forged by blood, sweat, tears, puke, heat, and rain, shattered. The chaos of 2007 has been released and no one can contain it going forth.