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Walking On Eggshells Would Be Easier
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Defined as sin, we refuse to play the bigger game. Keeping the field gated defends these ownership grids and gameboards. Women marry and win, men marry and win free labor, smiling at how lucky the chance taken. The model is the same in war and in business. Choose your weapon. The duel never ends.
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The pretty compensations come in denominations of worth. The ladder is central, the rungs ever ready. A faulty design has killed the earth and only scientists know this formula's solutions lead to inequalities. The alarm, deafening, nearing palpable, is encoded against decipherability. When the rains begin, nothing can stop them. All the astronomy watchers know is that unbrellas and boats are logjammed by nature's supply chain.
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Coal. Just coal.
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Death is the great finality. Here was all we had. Recycling should be bigger and more world-spread than GM or Amazon. We take out the trash and wave farewell to plastics and cardboard, glass and aluminum as the skies rebel and species die. Not wiser, stupid. We use to build for durability, now we build it cheaper and more disposably cheaply. The answer is: There is no answer. Like ants running from the rains in a flood, we waited too late to seek high ground.
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I will die soon. This wisdom is gleaned from far too many observations. That itch at the nape of the neck is where the predictable truth lives. Yeah, we blew it. Collin Powell; I wonder what his last thoughts were as Covid-19 killed him? I wonder what will humanity think when all we know fails us?
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Lady A
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