Things fall apart, right? Or do they? Who can tell anymore what's true, what's a Wilford ruse? So we hang on too tight to what we do know. Crack ourselves into harder factions. We're not afraid of our Ag Sec failing or biosecurity anymore. We're lighting red lanterns for Wilford because we're afraid of each other. And me, I'm out here selling the only common ground left, that we're all human beings. You know, who need love and connection and space for hope. Or we kill each other. What is it about recent history that's so friggin' hard to remember?
Roche
