Rest at last, then, the life raft? We fall. I write to you in the midst of my descent. It is thus that I feel the state of being at one with the world. Mankind is coming apart as surely as it was once composed. The wheel of destiny is running backwards and its teeth are tearing us apart. Our rate of acceleration is such that we will soon catch fire. Love, that sublime brake, is broken, no longer serviceable.
None of this is written on the assigned sky, nor in the longed-for book that hurries forward to the rhythm of our heartbeats, then shatters while our heart continues beating.
[MH]