i could have done more to diffuse the situation but i then realized (a quick second--or less, even--after the fact) that i didn't have to. can we be prolific again, can we go back to our erudite ways? things like carrot sticks and thumb splinters from god knows what. things like factory windows that run like a piet mondrain canvas. compartments subdivided and halved until the eye fails to perceive any more, any longer, any where. this is all just too much; so, sit a spell here in the monochromatic shades beneath the hulking tools of the modern world. way beneath with two of your closest enemies that have turned out to be the most sincere of confidants. but that is how it always works. with all of it.