Glass highways streak the land before us and faith streaks the glass. Arteries and veins feeding and draining a world of needless need. Glass highways always end up cracking from their weight, absorbing all who travel them indiscriminately. Whose fault is it for choosing a cracking road, and is “fault” even necessary or is finding it just a lark of purpose as it provides no correction to what is done? Does laying blame and continuing to drive on the glass highways serve our evolution? Distill the essence of cyclicality to unstoppable potency. Those highways lead nowhere but here. The erosion of time rather than distance is at their horizon. Lives are lived faithfully travelling. I spent good money on that trip, so whose fault is it that I drove the glass highways and I’m still here?