Practicing junkyard mind frame kung fu against the rising tide of societal failures, which are nipping at the edge of most all our rugged individual sand castles right now. I slap away each momentary emergency of an economic nature, and attempt to catch my breath between waves. Every now and then, I notice someone who had been standing around me for a long time is gone. Sometimes, I am even able to see them washing out to sea, and I skip a few of my cowry shells out towards them, hoping it helps prevent the drowning. Our human lungs were not meant to tolerate these types of conditions, but somehow the people standing on the third story deck of the palatial houses beyond the sand dunes yell down to us all that it’s never been better, and we should be happy. We’d love to go argue with them about it, debate them on the merits of their comfortable proclamations, but we’re too busy fighting for our lives, metaphorically until it becomes literal due to one slip on a seismic wave from an unguarded direction. God dam this bullshit. O' giant force of creative energy which swirled this Universe and whatever's might be beyond, please do something.
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