Unscript­ed Moment

We describe the sensation as a tearing in our chests and there is a quality in Freiburg’s father’s post-war wail that reaches through the world’s worst speakers and beseeches anyone who happens by, on their way to somewhere else – clicking through the endless screens for the garbage on the shelves (reflections of ourselves) – to consider the cost of all this shit we seem to think will fill our perforated souls. We’re more hole than human being, can’t wash away that stink. 13 billion years in the making: a live, unfiltered moment. An unscripted encroachment upon the province of routine evil – of all-too-human people. So pious, so peaceful. So quick to turn on you. Thought I was fucking outta here with two middle fingers in the air. Then like a mile-wide meteor, he came crashing through my door. That’s just how it goes. And everybody knows ain’t too much can be done. All the avarice and greed and puny human hatreds that dare to come between two human hearts. I try not to live in fear and I’m truly grateful for every happy moment here. Upstairs I hear her voice softly singing to him and I come undone. Something wicked this way comes. That’s just how it goes and everybody knows ain’t too much can be done.

For H and FR: my two most favourite unscript­ed moments.

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