There’s a sensation settling in. A little unnerving, as it is, due to the increasing rate of the possibilities of complexities that the heart and the bones are slowly beginning to learn. Vagueties about realities that had better remain in the back corners under rugs where real reality is safest, like under shadows and unconstructed floorboards with no nails driven through them to hold it all down.
Metaphorically speaking, we are making leaps and bounds.
But, if you will, just break the image down into as many bite-size, dumbed-down brain-sized pieces as you can. Just so our undermatured intellects can handle it all in stride, see? We’re really fucking trying.
And meanwhile, nobody notices if and then while the one with the magaphone and nothing of value to say keeping rambling on.
The volume at which that idiot is screaming makes it impossible to not have, at least, a little bit of something interesting to say to the effect of whether or not we’re agreeing with the statements being made.
Aruge that and what have you got?
There’s this steaming, warmish pile of things everybody seems to be collecting that — simply put — have no use. If they get stacked on top of each other, the pile only grows worse. But on the other hand, the situation is worse every day at any rate, and there’s this hole in the heart of the trees that carpenter bees have burrowed through — so, hoenstly, dude, what’s the use?
Ranting, raving, terrified and screaming – everything ends up at some point in the circle. In fact, we only have try to pause to realize we never really left. The collective pronouns are being ground into the ground. Ane real meaningful relationships expand to overtake the meanings that our forebearers might have meant and known and gotten through themselves. But, you, right now — do you know?
I think the greening grass and the antlers in our hands have no idea, too.
We might be approaching the apocolpyse, but the revolution will be pretty fucking thin.
So go inside and get your head down because there’s not a whole lot left to keep faith in.
The sun — our source of life, after all — will burn a hole right through your skin.
Hurry. Go get some metal sunblock on.