Didn't people die every day that you did whatever it was that you did before the day that you died? All while the uncomfortable truth emerged and whispered that you made no good goddamn difference, while the others stress to burnish into new time the lie that says that even that has got to stand good for something, even if, in truth, it was good for absolutely nothing.
I can envision returning to this wonderful performance again and again for the rest of my life, like a bouncy ball being bounced against my wall, by the same bouncy ball.
