Excerpt: Lullaby for the Reign of Sweet Parasites

So really, back to the question at hand - how do you survive? And why? Why aren’t you running into the woods, eating every mushroom you can find -- just to eat, or trip crazily, or die? Why do you allow yourself to crawl over to the little boy’s room to run your fingers across the faded mural of little cars toot tooting along a hopeful little road through the playful little buildings, tilted whimsically this way and that. You let yourself pretend, like him, to drive in the red car, past the construction site, not remembering how the buildings really tilted, and some of them eventually fell, failing to evoke the further memory of the construction site, and how the excavator was actually pulling up huge chunks of concrete and steel in the desperate attempt to reach half-crushed bodies, half out of this world already, in the hope that we’d find our humanity again somewhere among them.