Strictly speaking, we should all be going nuts. Killing each other off, brutally. Raping and looting town after town. It seems there is no hope whatsoever that our imaginings will overcome anything. This farce of a life is fully mechanical. Intricately conceived as it may be it remains but binary because we are caught in a simple vessel operated by cravings. Literally everything can go wrong. And so it does. A life mistakenly fabricated and knead into the pretension of expressing divinity. The painfully disfigured simulation of essence. The atrocious side-track. The universal excuse. The common failure. All indicators are there and they keep on swelling. You will find them projected into all of us on a smaller but more detrimental scale. That is why we all quickly identify them as liars when they try to push it on us. But like true cowards, we don’t flinch. We stay well on track. Not even dreaming of contradicting it. Of speaking against the allotted importance. The fight is fixed. The