Sorrow

-Part VI-

It's the Fool. The symbolism it carries strikes you as you go along with you petty life. It's the sharks that bother you now. Those infinite teeth, razor-sharp.

It's the light that won't go. There's no more darkness. It's lights everywhere. Even when they want the lights to go out is so they can record darkness: night-vision shots of whatever they're killing with those GigaWatts of theirs.

It's the snow. And every morning you go to work and have to deal with that white shit that only look good in movies. Snow and beaches with all that sand. Snow and sand. The plagues that pisses you off and make it impossible to live here.

It's you. You and your ever-wandering feeble mind. You that cannot and want not to be sedated. It's all your fault, in the end—only yourself to blame. It's your resilence in staying awake and alive.

It's gotta be the time.