This is painful:
We’ll get through this, we will, through our tears, however hard it will be.
« Circus Maximus MMXVI: Under pressure
Circus Maximus MMXVI: I break down in the middle and lose my thread »
well now we’ll see what Repuglican governance looks like at the national level.
Rain pours out a gutter onto the poor horse.
Horse runs under a tin roof supported by poles.
Stockpiles of beams, salvaged wood, brick melt into contextless waste.
I understand the situation by perceiving parts, one after another, then reversing in a glance that removes time.
So, I can intuit contextless waste as ground.
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