can you picture blackened bits of fuselage, scattered on the lawn?   (it's so bleak it's boring, but that's the selfish fun of it)crowd favorites: the bitter "undeserving." a classic? "failure."time is free now. i take the background hum for granted. i'll be oxidized, inside out, by every false breath.i dreamed i was a demon tasked with torturing a mourning man. he had lost his eight year old daughter. i shouted “NO REASON” with my demon friends.what is it to function under a weight? to abstract away the pathetic? it's pretty lousy of a unit just to grovel for compassion.for analogy a broken axle; or an echoing "and stay down."there is no pending catharsis. the weight, such as it is experienced, just is.i had a different dream about another stupid fantasy. i hope i never know so much regret.pathetically, i remembered: i was never entitled to the comfort of any given hell.