It is getting late...

In the Western world of 2017, dying of heartbreak seems to have gone completely out of fashion. As something of an idealist, I am willing to let heartbreak lead me to that final and deepest of thresholds. I am heartbroken and feel prepared to look at those things which I feel I can hardly stand to turn my gaze toward. The grief of loss sits heavy upon my shoulders tonight, like some sort of sick specter. The world is and has been mad, and I don't want to talk about it with rational language because it doesn't make sense for me in that way. I want to go into that mythic and poetic place beyond rationality. I want to talk about how my loneliness is a cracked sliver of moonlight. I want to talk about the way that environmental collapse sinks my heart to the deepest depths of some midnight dark sea. I want to talk about the sickness that lives in all of us in the Western world and the black snake seething through the land.