Same as a rotten orange, sun falls down into the sea. The news cycle ceases just where the decline of the West begins, the creation of New World incepts. Mollified dreams dwell - on the seventh day. In a languid viscosity, sweeter than vanilla, in a tractile tunic of softness time melts down into blockbuster films. Birds' footsteps follow notes into notebook like a frozen chime of a wave. Dialectics of light and beginnings is preserved in the binary code. The delusion of notions like feelling, freedom, fineness, failure, and fate shatters down at the customs. All passports, passwords, dicta and laws are precisely in meaning the same as news titles and consolidations, holy scriptures and customer notes. The expense undermines any promice. There'll be light. There'll be darkness. Tomorrow sun shall rise as a ripened grapefruit.