II So What?

Chop and Screw! Tuck and tape! Dance like an earthworm on the frying pan.

II So What?

No parachute for this moon miner, but pre mortem vigilance, and feather-footed stealth. All other paths lead to destruction. I refuse to be disfigured or mutilated by the toothy gears and steely lines of my own mind. And, there is no greater tragedy than a man whose been asphyxiated by his own fumes. I’ve seen their colorless corpses festooning the slaughtered lumber of courtrooms and office spaces. I’ve reached for their outstretched fingers, as they fell from dream to nightmare. I’ve tried to raise them from their cubicle graves, but no Lazarus appeared at my sympathetic call.

I’m alone out here.

So what?