So many lanes all twisted around each other, so many people confusing left for right, blaming it on each other. So many people jumping from their perches, so many people staying where they are. I could jump. I could jump but I couldn’t fly. Maybe I’ll jump just for the heck of it, maybe I’ll pretend to fly until gravity is kind enough to let me fall. Whatever I choose, I know it will be right, because what I choose can’t be wrong. What I choose is as right as what you choose, because there isn’t a now, and there never was one. I can’t wait to be spit on, I can’t wait to fail, I can’t wait to tell you what happened to me on my way down, I can’t wait to be laughed at and feel what it’s like to drown in the accumulative failures of a race in denial of it’s self. everyone else will pretend to enjoy their lies atop those wobbling perches as I expire into nothingness. With all the satisfaction of someone who’s done all he could as a broken mechanism of flight, I will expire with false indignation.