Losing control. It’s all about spiraling out of control. Inevitable. Simply holding on to the hope that when everything settles down finally, there’s still something recognizable.
The tornado has moved on to encompass the whole continent. The time-differentiation has turned into a full-out time stop. There’s seemingly no end to things, but it’s there – the end. I can almost feel it upon me, yet still so far away.
But before things can die down, it’ll always first escalate. The night before dawn is always the darkest, and the like. In this case, completely true. Things will keep on getting worst, before finally reaching that turn-about.
It’s almost okay though, almost, but not really, because you know there’s still so many going through the same thing as you are, but also differently. Most are more prepared, but there’s still those who are even less prepared, and you can’t help but envy the former, and pity the latter. Even though it’s totally not your place.
You reap what you sow, after all.
And so when things sink to a new low, people also become even more…adaptable. That’s one way to put it. We can choose to adapt to a certain situation – humans, we’re good at that. Huh.
We’ll get through it, I know that. There’s no other way to go but through. Thing is, at the end of this, what will we be?
Here at Glimpses is an example of a conversation between two very adaptable people.
Note: ‘adaptable’ can also be replaced by ‘insane’