Oh yeah, I said. This part of downtown seems chill. The reality is not hinged upon shrapnel as over these. During these light years, the man sips a tiny glass of juice. I bought him that drink, one time. The moment of drinking the drink, now, with the glass grabbing his hand, devours him carnivorously, and for this, his void betrays me, I attract his element, esteem negatively battered and eclipsed by the knowledge that he is stuck in this life. Me, I can bound over these buildings, nothing. You should see them, they’re in these little gold casings that vibrate for everyone like a drunk in a wheelchair.