"those long walks in a faintly circular path, meandering among the other minnows heading the other way, eventually knowing we'll be meeting up again, herded to the same eventual end of infinity. gentle hills wreck your willpower to walk--insidious, creeping, trials of willpower to drain brainpower.
"cage-free eggs" is always for breakfast, but why should they be cage-free when they essentially roam a bigger cage? it constrains and it breaks, and the ring-shaped buildings press inward among us until we can't breathe for lack of space: compressed human flesh huddled together in a vaguely circular shape ready for crushing--human pizza anyone?
we escape through the cracks, and snow falls on the ground. topsy-turvy, but that's life. we look from the cracks and corners, and we spin our music and our strangeness and open new paths for new escapees. it's our own Underground Railroad, our own refuge from the inner and outer world. it's too easy to separate the two--sanctuary imagined.
the only thing to do is to jump on the eaves of the roofs and run lightly upon the ground wishing to fly. by the end we'll grow wings and fly away from here"
--screwds
