Salad bowel:
Sand town where each day could be your last, where the world ends and there is no reality. People die; people live and evil exist in a real way. No word can explain, so none are exchanged, everyone on the ground knows the insanity. Still we find some way to hope, for resolution, we are like pond’s, on a chess board, where the rule’s are in constant change.
But nobody has time to right them down, are ask for meaning.
Motivation is wrapped in a myth of idealization, a dream which can never be reached. Selection is made by alternative on which misery
One wants to deal with, we all seem to have large selection to choose from. We mask our feelings and take our medication to cure an illness that cannot be cured. Time past seem as time seen as the future, everybody knows the score, besides, it‘s already determined who will win the outcome.
Daily schedule’s here have been predetermined by others, who will let us know of the time frame in which we have to complete the task. Meanwhile we stay the course, ready to do what we do, and choose the after shock to come what we already know is a bad idea. This is the place, in a complacent world of self servant humanity, any other action is seen and taken as aggression, and dealt with by default, in most cases, elimination from the circle. We take or direction, as best we can determine and follow each other in a mass movement of conformity…
Sully;
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