The story of the Porsche's tragic downfall is a twisted road of deceit and treachery, at least that's what I think. I have no memory of the accident, I can't even remember getting into the car that night, it's all a blank. I don't even know where Higby road is, why I was on it, or how I got there. So no one knows what really happened, sure there's speculation that I was going 120 down Higby, caught some air off a hill, slammed on my brakes as I saw the curve, did a 180 and careened off the road into a tree. But that's just speculation... it's a MYSTERY.

Now as some of you may know, I'm a bit of an insomniac- I don't sleep at night anymore, I feel I do my best work at four in the morning and I'm at a creative peak. Going days without sleep tends to warp the mind and makes me think i can tap into my sub-concience. Being an artist I got the idea late at night that I could scribble out what happened that night and solve the mystery. I'm not sure what went on, perhaps I seperated myself and took a mind-trip but I woke up this morning and found this in my sketchpad. It's a bit sloppy and I havn't quite peiced it all together yet so please bear with me.