Flower petals fill the air as the trees all die in unison. Protesting our cities and machines and lives. Floating up towards the stars, they take their place in the heavens.

Shut your vision dear eyes. Look not into the crowd. For they are ordinary and ugly. Their smiles and serious inconsequential concerns are grotesque. Gaping. Filthy and stuffed like piggies waiting for slaughter. The layers of their faces jiggling as they gleefully over-enjoy music in elevators.

My people, live your lives as I do. I come not from the now. I come from the future and the past. I have lived the everlasting mind numbing cycle a thousand times. For eternal spinning continuous living follow my life. I peel the flesh off my face. Tear out my jaw. Saw off my head. Walk into a dessert and bury the pieces. I rot in the ground. My bone begins to disintegrate with time. And somewhere in the distant next day I am found and transformed to my previous glory by a warm and blinding light. There I find myself again in the beginning, only to repeat my offenses in the morrow. This my dear people is the key to the drought of forever.