I have figured it out, P. I knew it when I convinced you to move here with me on this crazy sex assignment, this gamble, but I hadn’t put it all together yet. So I couldn’t articulate it. But I here am now, on the top of the Mountain, and I see it: This is where we die.
Yes. We have to find that mountain, climb it, and jump off. If it weren’t for all the smog we’d be on our way to it now. We just have to get out of here. This was a wrong turn. We are too deep in the people forest. Time to follow the bread crumbs back into fresh air.
We were moving forward, but we went forward on the wrong axis. That is okay. I forgive myself, like I forgave my mother for bruising me. If we didn’t forgive, P, then we would never change. Change hands. Allies change, and so do directions that seemed crystal clear.
I cannot follow my internal compass anymore. I am tired. The people have hung me by the toes drained joy out of me, for a dollar. I am nothing but meat to them.
It’s time to go or we will never die. And that would be horrible