Sporadic fracas ignite wild imaginings with little or no basis for their cyclic frothing. While disturbingly amusing at first, in the long haul their antics become common as shower scum and as tolerable, depending on one's standards of cleanliness. Yet, as awkwardly strained as this relationship becomes, it remains an intrinsic phase in growth pattern that leads to whatever the fuck is going on.
Stir not those caught in gentle dreaming
Awakening isn't for everyone
One ought to stop and gather meaning
Before we face the rising sun
"Heaven hears and pities hapless men like me,
For sacred ev’n to gods is misery".
Alexander Pope (1688–1744) The Odyssey of Homer
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