It feels remarkably strange to be back in this great city. I've died my hair grey, don a cap that shadows most of my face, and use a cane to exaggerate a limp. I don't even look at the others as they pass me by. I don't want them to see what I have become. I simply just want peace of mind so that I can fade easy into the history of mankind without a blip or notice. My personality disorder seems to have subsided for the time being. Maybe this devil inside of me has realized that its useless wasting its time on someone who will gone soon. Liverpool's last game of the season is tomorrow. I will be sitting in the section opposite of what I'm used to. The kop used to be my home, the biggest single tier audience stand in the world that booms our chants for over ninety minutes. Instead I will sit calmly with the other supporters who appreciate a more mellow viewing experience. This isn't exactly what I want, but I don't want to risk someone noticing me with my absurd costume on. Life goes on.