There are things I don’t understand. Things that bother but go away briefly the moment I realise how vague they are for what I actually care about. But there are things gathering in webs. In networks. As if they are building up to a mass-distruction weapon that would automatically work as a suture for your broken world. Funny how things work though: you soon figure out that the mass-distruction weapon is meant to target you. To break you. To squash you. To kill you. And then it seems as if everyone knew. Everyone else but you. They all knew and it is just in that moment that you understand their look and all the hope for a sort of superiority and fairplay on behalf of the almighty deity vanishes, for you know, from that moment on, how alone you are on this fucking world and how even the most colourless stranger seems to know a hell of a lot more about yourself than you do. And even the most hopeless dying bird out there is luckier than you and your hopes for a better world or, from a more selfish and self-centered point of view, better for you. Well there you are. Funny, isn’t it? Apparently all the mass of wisdom is not better. The elite rules from the shadow of doubt, from lack of everything that would ever make a great person. Do I find it funny as well? Of course not. And you know why? Because it’s me that they’re laughing at right now. And it shouldn’t be this way. And what do I do about it? Nothing at all. I’m waiting for my own weapon of mass-destruction (and now, to make it even more melodramatic and tragic: God save you all).