pete without emotion he shuffles through the stark images of wanton destruction. the years have cleaned his nation of debate, and centuries have wiped sympathy from his mind. colourless, unnuanced stories paint the dark corners of a collective heritage, with silent murmurs and forgotten memories unfolded upon a genetic family tree (traced patrilineally of course).

each new story is folded into an unfeeling mural, painting sloppily in black and white to all the generalizations live stronger than the truths they twist. each diary taken at face value shames the shades of grey that slowly retreat from the canvass. his mind wanders, slopping on paint haphazardly.

her hand slips away from his shoulder as she turns ago. he sits entranced at the abomination of his own creation, trying to repair his humanity without drowning out the subtle interplay with individual loves. his own life turns from reality to fiction and back again, a mere sketch of reality forgotten and tied intricately to the whole his heirs will try to recreate.

frustration builds and seeps painfully out his eyes. nothing works, no rule fits. the philosophers, he realizes in an instant, lie and thus expose truth. new despair builds as he endlessly shifts, desensitized, through the lives of the dead.
pete does a grammar check generalizations live = generalizations that live

ago = to go
no reason maybe if you visit something enough it'll lose its meaning 090412
what's it to you?
who go