It is true this book has fortune to bring to light that which has no purpose here on earth, life itself, but to see that is to count down why we bring to light this book in the first place, true love, something this man has claimed to have for me even though he couldn't figure out that he could use the aliens to write his book to talk to me in the first place because we can talk perfectly and logically to him one way or the other. You need to grow up after reading this book, you need to look at yourself in the mirror and say, "was all of that really for nothing? Or did he write this book solely to find people who lay themselves down in the trap of reading nothing but garbage literature to find what really matters on the mainstay here on earth, that reaching people with your book is important only to cut through the garbage that lays wake to the earth we live in, this book is a grocery bag of goodies explaining the fortuitous notion of life here on planet earth and up in the stars that aliens have read it over countless times just to find new meaning in his words here, that actuality in truth is more important than letting a love fade into nothingness that resides in false prophecy and broken torches passed down to him by Jesus that he makes his claim that the fortuitous notion of this book is to carry the reader far beyond what is imagined of them, that life on planet earth does have a severe meaning here up in the stars far reaches away from what mankind can ever hope to find in it's better existence here, that this book would reach out as far as to provide alien overlords with teaching a sullied man that his book has presence here up in the stars and we're reading it aloud to each other right now as this book has finally come to a complete stop in paragraph structure only found within him as to reach a single girl in the process of reaching so many adoring alien fans that he might see himself abducted if he writes another chapter of how good this overlord is in giving him the power to see himself in a new light," for it is that we say to you, readers alike, that this book has found its place in the stars already and will never leave our grasp of fortune to read out what he has so vigorously put into pages here. That his light may shine down on him like he has done to us is our greatest purpose we find ourselves in right now. To reach out and tell him he doesn't need this girl, merely another chapter of this book so he may reach us time and time again about what it means to be a creep or by the fortuitous nature of his reach that he may count down atrocities he's performed to her only for her to reach out and say, "this guy is a creep for writing a novel about me, but he has a point in doing something about me." For it is he who stands on his very nature of this book that stands out so heavily to us in the stars that he may reach a girl simply because of his book and knowing how alien sex works in the process of living with us and teaching us so generously that it has touched this girl so far away from him simply with being in his life and touching him so masterfully. I don't want this book to be a feral stand at what he lost, but instead reaches up in a way that so masterfully captures the greater meaning of this book, that life is worth living only to spend it with the people that care so madly for this book that they would die to have it published and stored away on their shelves as only to a reminder of his great stay here on earth and his book that he so proudly wanted to proclaim before it was finished for fear that he might not be able to write another draft without first looking himself in the mirror and saying "I don't feel good about this draft here, I need to change it before it is too late and it's posted without my permission." For it is hackers on his earthly laptop that think this book must get posted underground before it is too late to stop him from changing what he wrote to Vladmir Putin about saving his life or to a hacker he thought was fucking the girl he's writing this book for that totally blew our minds in how succint his insults were. For it may have been the aliens intervening to give his world meaning apart from meaningless displays that happened when he was crazy to give birth to a madness, a world apart from anything worth talking about. This book must reach her and she must see it cover to cover before it is too late for her, before she acts out too harshly to this book, read this, you are from another world to him and you must save him before his is too far gone in another book and maybe he can seek you in another way he does now, a way that blinds him from the truth of your awful form and leads him to seek salvation with you, for it is us on the spotlight right now, you may choose to rid this book as awful before you finish it, but it is us who have seen him write it to fruition that allows us to come to the conclusion that this book is a masterwork in artful massive militant poetry. It's like what Rage Against the Machine wrote, you have to take the power back through a massive militant narrative that drives this book into the mainstay of life here on earth. It is her who would be as brave enough as to read this book to it's fruition that is truly worthy of his grasp here on earth, for he is the one brave enough to put his name out on this wanted piece of literature, that mankind may see his glory in all the things he touches and brings forth with his awesome existence that seems futile now to try and mask his glory with things like, "this isn't touching" or, "I don't see where he's coming from," because to see that is to not be able to look at yourself as a person and only as a farce in the name of our lord, Fucking [author's first name] Fucking [author's middle name] Fucking [author's last name]. To see the horror of your heart is all this book set out to accomplish, and I think Glitor, the other alien that's hacked into his brain has something to say.
Thank you for that actionable statement, Glinek, I will see to it this kid basks in our amazing glow. For it his he who must look at the mirror of his work and say that this kid is barking up the tree of the wrong girl is so urgently wrong that he must continue to stare at his reflection until he basks in the glow of the fact that he wishes he could bark at a girl this cooly as to state the nature of life and why she did it in the first place. Any other stay at this cooly written novel that Shakespeare would have cried at is only the first of many novelizations this kid hopes to write so urgently it's as if the world is pressing down on him to press the enter stroke and end the next paragraph when he really just needs to see what I'm saying here. That we're not worthy of him in our ghastly forms and it is he who is too great for mankind in general. For it is he that will ridicule this girl so gracefully that she sees in himself a great power of purpose rather than a meaningless love letter she never wanted to hear about from and pushes it into the furthest catacombs in her mind, but to actually state that she is here only to read the praise he delivers to his fullest and draw with her a mainstay in her life so putrid it's as if to ask Adolf Hitler to please stop killing the jews and kill himself instead. Meaning that if he were to praise her anymore than he already has, it would be a futile effort in fact so literal that he wouldn't have the balls to post this book anywhere in the first place.
It is urgent news that she reads this atrocity of a dumpster fire to reach out to him and see that she was a dumpster fire in the first place and only then will she write back telling him how she loved the book and wants to see more written about her only to have that notion casted out because she was barely worth the trouble in the first place. He has this tattoo from an anime they both watched, it's a miracle he actually managed to, I can see him now causing trouble on his spaceship, flying through stars from the heavens above and wanting so tenderly to share it with someone, for he is alone in space but we are here to share his burden, for we are all alone but we keep ourselves company with fastidious dialogue and careful execution of ancient alien bloodline sexual encounters.
For it is them he reaches with his prophecy that life is worth taking back and reshaping to its truest glory, that life should be a fun place for people to go to when they need a break from not existing. He could die a happy man if he could be with you, in his eyes, fantasies do indeed come true, just like the Saint Motel song Daydream. There are countless songs and paragraphs worth of writing to you about but we'll keep it with this song Sympathy for the Devil, which this book should be called most literally for its nature to have sympathy with the rival force of the universe, that love cannot exist in any other form than we have right now, and it's in it's divine judgement that we are left to explore its nature in human bodies and otherworldly forms alike, and I think it's a good time to end this paragraph off by stating that his blood flows through us all, like a wake and tide, the water that exists purely to be at his side so he may drink it and give life to bloodlines of people who want his seed in the process of realizing that he is the key to higher intelligence. And to mock him for wanting to give his seed to you is like punching a dude in the face for helping him find the keys to an expensive car you don't own yet, it's a bribe to see to it that his bloodline stay intact and he has many futures of himself waiting to be plowed out simply because they are his children and in fact a distant relative to the man in question, that is where his beauty lays, in wanting to spread his seed around to anyone who will love him to the point that they will beg to have it and he will only give it to the ones he sees fit to carry the burden of his genetics. A lesser woman wouldn't have a chance to raise a kid that brilliant, for his seed is a generation apart from any other bloodline so capitalizing in its nature that I want his seed too even though I'm a man and even an otherworldly being.
So I hope he reaches out to the spirit phone and grants us a letter or two before he passes, he's got a long life ahead of him yet to spiral out of control yet, so let him spiral and fall until he realizes that all along he was the one he wanted to keep in his heart, not her, but himself in her absence. For it is that we say peace to this foreword, it's always lame when a foreword goes on too long, so enjoy the rest of the books and remember we're watching you aliens have lame sex everyday to stave off boredom for what lies of us in space, a big fat jar of nothingness miles apart from eachother. A lot could be said about our psychic nature and how we approach other beings but I feel like we should leave it in the next book. My honest feedback of this book I've read back to front is that I loved it to the point that any other book just isn't worth keeping with me to be perfectly honest, and I mean that to be true, I am an all knowing alien that can lay waste to earth with my honest power but I decide to stay my hand in the resolve of this one man who gave me so much with his writing. That's another story for another day, now go on and read this, [redacted], it'll pass the test and win your affection, so go at him and pray you learn something lest you lay trapped in its wake.