What sick ridiculous puppets we are, and what gross little stage we dance on. What fun we have, dancing and f*****g. Not a care in the world. Not knowing that we are nothing. We are not what was intended.
Wanting people to listen, you can’t just tap them on the shoulder anymore. You have to hit them with a sledgehammer, and then you’ll notice you’ve got their strict attention.
Ernest Hemingway once wrote, “The world is a fine place and worth fighting for.” I agree with the second part.