So I stop for a second and grab my hand on the rails of reality to find nothing changed. People still hurt, hurt each other, practiced death on the firing range.
Now I miss the spiralling insanity, where for just moment it all made sense. Instead of this overwhelming international indifference.
They remix this then they remix that and fire it at you as a matter of fact. Though the truth is not on a screen, in a book or some smooth spoken tact.
The truth dies to be buried so we are not blinded by its harshness. The natural order is a cruel mistress, and I see no way past this.
So I grab reality again then spin it as hard as I can, reach orbital velocity so I don’t have to deal with the truth that is man.
D May 2018