They came at dusk with several different forms of survey and rank, placing blunt metaphysical imperative on queer commands that seemed to adhere to universal archetypes hidden within human genome, like sleep paralysis with Vodou witches in smart pants suits marching the halls of this penitentary cell block, dragging intellect back to innocence with intuition that calls forth unconscious obedience due to trancendent fear, like debt collectors from a previous life. After Laertes and Cairo hopped aboard insubstantial eddies towards the afterlife I found myself locked up with lucid crazy people, their profound exclamations through doors professed not to be even real, even as I slit my wrists yet again, settled my own qualms from previous existence with hysterics, and misplaced respect.

“It is the end of the world again!” I proclaimed loud and to no one. It cpuld have been that no one was there. “Immortal overseers are telling me that if I turn on my Samsung Galaxy, whose security has been compromised and that is why it is off, I will be agreeing to save a baby girl. Yes, ‘they’ are committing genocide yet again; you have indicated that I should refrain from this simple act of empathy, either for some nefarious philosphical necessity I do not understand, or because you want to frame me.” I decided to save five baby girls and then risked murder and torture for my homosexual tendencies.