One mans trash is another mans treasure, will anything ever be enough? Ever? Rough endeavour being fairweather friends forever, brick feather, slick glue, the weight of the world just slides off of you. Scare tactic? Give the flak back, who asked for it anyway? It’s not what you don’t say, it’s not who you can’t be, maybe it’s just me lacking amnesty but the process is driving me crazy. I can’t get as high as I want to be, but that’s on me, abuse leads to sobriety and the process expects conformity. I made the choice to turn off the noise for the wife and boys who were losing my voice, dedicated to my service but never impervious to the nervous breakdown of my purpose, am I sure of this? When is it worthless? Did I even scratch a surface? How do I survive a world whose values seem absurdist? Billions spent fighting drugs that kill us while the same caring wallets gaslight a virus? People imposing a violent fools freedom they guarantee with weapons, rules and sermons? A world of folks who expect better than what they give, jokes and rejects who shudder when they think. You should never say should except for your own good, the process knows what you never could despite obvious prose observing trees and their woods.