Medulla Supernova

by Miezessin


Your shades are foggy and smeared. Clean them right, or take them off so your blazing blues can meet mine. I will not tolerate indolence, it is no longer charming, but pretentious.

“What is the good of telling the ships how to steer so as to avoid collisions if, in fact, they are such crazy old tubs that they cannot be steered at all? What is the good of drawing up, on paper, rules for social behavior, if we know that, in fact, our greed, cowardice, ill temper, and self-conceit are going to prevent us from keeping them? I do not mean for a moment that we ought not to think, and think hard, about improvements in our social and economic system. What I do mean is that all that thinking will be mere moonshine unless we realize that nothing but the courage and unselfishness of individuals is ever going to make any system work properly. It is easy enough to remove the particular kinds of graft of bullying that go on under the present system: but as long as men are twisters or bullies they will find some new way of carrying on the old game under the new system. You cannot make men good by law: and without good men you cannot have a good society. That is why we must go on to think of the second thing: of morality inside the individual.” C.S. Lewis.

You’re an artistic intellectual last time I checked, so salute your shorts with that passage underarm. I warned countless times I was no fool, that I only played one on t.v. This t.v. show of life. The Truman Show. That’s the big secret behind moniker: Hughman. My subtle homage.

“…we blow it up ourselves, we control the detonator.” There’s only one detonator, you held it. I sweated and bled trying to diffuse it but you cleverly kept changing the color of the wires. There was nothing I could do from the beginning but I stayed to watch the buildings blow. We made these buildings, not a single architecture wasn’t designed by us, not even the trees and out of order gas pumps. Not a single tiny detail was overlooked, and the next thing we knew, we built this city with glitter, dreams, and a tiny bit of our demented souls. The hotdog vendor vends because we said so, the dog with no owner barks incessantly because we tell it to bark, the children on the roundabout laugh because we tell them to laugh, the businessman walk across the streets looking at their watches because we tell them to be on time. We were Alpha and Omega and we decided when it all turned to fire and rubble. I said to give the city some time, so much time. You flipped the switch. Supernova.

I may not have a home anymore, because my home was always wherever my hands met your cheetah-gloved ones. I just couldn’t afford rent.

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