Complicate all the things you say. What tiny lives each of our lies must lead. As we disapprove of us entirely, disguise away the ways in which we're incomplete. We cover them in encouraging insincerities and use our routines to increase the revenue and get the kids ready for school. Rise with the sun and leave our secrets sleeping in. This is how we live. Orchestrate all the things you say so all the neighbors see you scream out publicly. Teach the local kids that the arithmetic of attention and affection goes like this:
"We'll take what we can get." I can't take it. Awaken the needful things that we've created. We're separated, awaiting the evil things. Our tiny cages no longer can contain the vicious teeth of our mistakes. The fuel that leaks from our machine floods the local scene in shopping and therapy, modern economics and reckless chemistry, all so we can sleep. This is how we dream.