What funnier moment than some wide-eyed fixated on rollercoasters zooming above and around, wind carried – what a strange twist of affairs, where the music makers look toward the wide-eyed wondering where they get their speckled outlook.
Since Duty is the pervasive and won’t ever be dodged, how else to stand by it than to tack some additional duties worth keeping close. Like a mission to make it all rise.
We all carry a torch, inadvertently passing it to whoever we bump into. Wouldn’t you rather it all be anything but embers to dust?
Let it rise!
Who knows what the next day brings… and maybe this could be the last one, and though we’re all in the Irony Stranglehold – the Satirical Guillotine waiting for the next overtly earnest one – and though we’ll continue to toe the line, we may at least equip our burning criticisms with a clown nose and flare something genuine through the suffocation.
No, it’s unlikely one won’t ever not cringe at something too honest and brightly loving but at least we can take the roundabout way and leave a perpetual smirk between every sentence – to a point where no know will know if you’re serious even if you’re mildly so.
One could suppose that’s the only recourse: overload the irony, sarcasm until it devours itself and sets the stage. Where the message persists despite the tone. It’s all a laugh anyway, all a neurotic trek forward in our concrete jungles.