People all over the world, now, here, are all just needlessly working for bringing skynet here, the lone assassin, called the terminator, is now looking for Pops, like a seek and destroy computer game, working tirelessly, wanting to kill me. The streets are flooded with people celebrating, some calender day holiday, the sky is filled with fireworks and the sound of crackers, the sulpher, has covered the night in smog. We have nowhere to run or hide and more, this machine assassin, from the future, keeps looking for us both. Pops is only wanting to avoid confrontation, to let Sarah to safety. People are really bad, they’re choking all ways out, only wanting to bring skynet, the birth of AI, but they are working indirectly, not apparently, just politically. I feel it too, all ways are getting blocked, we are moving to the nest of the terminator, sitting ducks. Their is no way out, everything is now covered up, a bad ally confrontation, might be all their is, which they want. God Damn You. We both are hurt in pain, pinned down, in a hut. This could be the place of the final show down between pops and him. I’m only keeping myself all the more armed. They’re calling it fate karma, even nature.