The wounded skeletons are tapping at the glass. This is the soundtrack to our destruction. To imagine a landscape in ruins and to imagine a life are two disparate entities. "Remain calm and carry on" is an old adage told by a proud people to maintain their dignity through flagging moments of insecurity, destruction, war. What is it that we tell ourselves in this time? We have become complacent upon interactivity as a means of passing the dead time that now encompasses our life. We say nothing outside of the usual pathological flinging and screaming that defines a perfectly atomized hominid zoo animal separated from any meaningful context by a wall of alien onlookers.
"What are you?" he says.
"I am a casualty of consciousness." I reply.
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