Something is wrong. Something's terribly wrong.
Everyone felt it but they didn't know how to explain it. I also didn't know how to explain it, because I am a part of everyone. A dark cloud came over everything, but there was no dark cloud. And nothing came over anything. There were only normal clouds and a normal sun in a normal sky; sometimes there were no clouds at all, only the suspicion that there might be clouds and the assumption that those clouds would be dark, or light, but ultimately normal. But we didn't know.
Because normal is abnormal, and because we didn't know, we assumed a lot of things. I drank a whole bunch of whiskey in the basement of what was once my home. I drank the whiskey with a dear friend. We pissed in the yard or inside, in a room with a toilet or in a room without a toilet. We walked around at night and stared at the stars and talked about things, cried about them, and laughed about them. All that time nothing incredible happened to upset the deeper assumption that everything was credible. Nothing made proper sense and I relished in it.
Things started to make sense. Little things. I understood that a plant grows if you water it sometimes. If you're late to work too often people will look at you funny. I understood that my father was telling the truth when he told me that the friends I had then would not be my friends later on. I understood things but I did not believe or grasp them. When you face your fears, something good might happen. When you face your fears, something bad might happen. I said "I don't know" and I meant it, and it was my favorite phrase.
We were given unintelligible scraps of reality for food and we ate them. We pretended to be full. We insisted and we lied because it tasted like shit. It tasted like shit because we had never tasted such things before. It was ridiculous and we continued not knowing. We convinced ourselves that all of this was fake and we proceeded to do other made-up stuff. Everything changed but we couldn't tell because everyone kept dying and everyone spoke a different language after they had died.
I broke my hands trying to punch through a wall.
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