We are the complacent competitors, false prophets selling our own apocalypses. Everything is bought and sold, separated and divided from what is whole. We aim to achieve such heights of what they have told us to believe, a deranged sense of self worth persists. As we look not into the wild pastures, what exists within an illusion, only the small patch of well kept lawns. Paradise has been trapped, behind the bubble of our economic scarcity, as it drifts over the fault lines. Carried not by gravity, but an inflation of our unchecked ego. As the debt has been raised for all to bear. Nature was not made to horde, caught within our own tangled despair. This web we have weaved, a process nearer to its final completion. The progress trap has been set, capturing everything in its path, so all may share in our tragedy. As we may wake up just long enough to realize, that we are both the spider and the fly, as the rains come to wash us away.
– Josh Fleming
Image from: Edward Scissorhands