The End In Retrospect.

Split it. Down the middle. The tower. The sky. And ground. The world. Our world. You can have Germany, I'll take Australia. You can have North America, but keep you hands off Europe. The public stares. Watches. You, the anachronism. I say "Just let her crash and burn, the attention just encourages her."
But I'm sick. I might be catching, so don't touch me. You'll start believing you're immune to gravity and such.

You can do it!
God --
A, B, C --
Posture!
Walk it!
Do it sideways!
You can do it!
Posture!
Straight line!
Now!
J, K, L --
Good!
Left foot!
Right foot!
Do it the way I showed you!
Posture!
Good!
Q, R, S --
Walk!
Left foot!
Good!
You can do it!
Straight line!
Posture!
That's right!
X, Y, Z!
Good!

How strange, though. There's this thing that's like talking except you don't talk. Silent whispers. Filling a void. Dying of shock. Relinquishing what once was for what now is. Oblivion, a powerful tool.

But I digress. The public is insane. Bonkers. Mad. Everyone is texting like there is no tomorrow. Don't get me wrong, I love communicating. I just hate all the shit we're missing.

But fight it all you want, it's fruitless. It's all in the way of progress. That statement's truth or falsity is moot.

Mad world. Every time you turn around, your soul is sold to the highest bidder. Then they turn around and merger. Merger, merger, murder. The one who mergers most can and will take it all.

But I digress. Furthermore. Nevermore. I'm split down the middle, like our world. And the full set, half off the price they're asking. I'm half biology and half corrective surgery. I'm half underwater. A fraction left up to dispute. I suppose you'll notice something funny if you spend too much time here. But if you listen closely, you'll manage to notice the difference between the halfs and the half nots. This half runs as fast as it can run, but the other comes tumbling after.

Forever relinquished to madness's clutches. You never will find the magic words to change this fact.