weeping giants 1 (fate)
castoffs with more science than they’ll ever know how to use, dream and make up as they go along.
the smartest store up ammunitions made of pure platinum, the others believe steel will be of any use. one man with a heart of the realest anger sings of fire every night on the equator, and because there all nights last the same time, his words become truly cyclic and spiral up to us.
look at all the others, dancing in the streets with blindfolds on.
or dont look, just try and breathe.
what’s coming is coming, so now, comrade, just try and breathe.
(from a picture of the sculpture FATE by einar jonsson, reykjavik, and a sunset over SNÆFELLSJÖKULL, northeast iceland)