I suppose for a while we fooled ourselves in that the world couldn’t bend then more years came, more years went and the world turned. The present appears mutilated, mangled. We can’t talk to our neighbor every person we disagree with is a space invader hellbent on the murder and misery of the other. So we’d have each other believe.

Nuclear possibilities that seemed the collective anxieties of the past now seem a joke barely worth a popsicle stick. In more ways the world is ending than 4 horses can provide mount All of my heroes dying many closer still to come They gave us creations their own for us to stand on and build our own vision of the world I feel they must have felt this same uncertainty in that doubt of ability to merely keep things from crumbling

I guess the times have me feeling something It’s not mortality. I guess the times snatched me, and I’m finally feeling my own temporality.

A yesterday exists that I wasn’t here, many tomorrows will, too. I think it’s scared me straight and ready to settle down Give me more than myself to think of, yet making that happen is more like the Running of the Bulls and I don’t like it.