Davon Cecil is the younger brother of Leyli Cecil.
When younger, the two — sandy-haired, doe-eyed, and sparkling engines of their neighborhood’s descent — were often, innocuously, mistook for twins. Though since diverged in form and life’s content, they’ve carried on the streamed entrails of bloody kinship and steamy, childhooded trails (that rifely grow where fern-bent memories went) of like-minded, likably free-minded soul-friends.
You’ll be glad to know that I’m taking the coming collapse seriously, and am preparing myself mentally and actually. I’ve decided to stay IN Amercia, to be here when it happens. I plan on being one of those who is looking it head on — not with my back turned. This long emergency is one I feel connected with and I need to see the fate of this place through to the end.
Actually, it is a transition I would not want to pass up if. If situated and prepared correctly, I will see and experience things only dreamed of.
When asked why I do certain things, I merely say that I am “starving the tapeworm.”
When asked what is really important in the near future, I say “chickens and guns.”
— January 26th, 2008.
2000—2009.