At the base of it

.. image:: /images/sunset.png

A feeling of burn on exhalation. A long gaze into the infinite.

It comes from time to time. Not always there, but not shy of often stopping by.

Last time was after watching the news. A murdered celebrity. A media explosion.

I knew her name, didn’t pay much attention those days. I only knew she had fame.

An innocent ride of a long, bumpy road. A vicious habit of meeting subsistence by harming others.

The numb crowd fully domesticated. We had become comformist dystopia.

Experts at shrugging away horror and inconvenience. Quick to interpret, digest and forget.

Along with details the first drops of gut acid. A creeping burn at the base of it.

A familiar road. A murdered mate. A child with a permanent wound and an eternal loss.

It’s one slap after the other.

How much we have lost by riding on the back of tyrants?

How little have we been taught to value life?

She said goodbye with kisses and a sunset background.

And with that, the acid ball became whole. The burn had moved around like a metastasized tumor.

Time turned small, distortion became evident and thoughts of falling to the impune darkness were the only ones left in my mind.