Sometimes it seems like the world should just stop moving, so why doesn’t it. Why is it that the world has such little regard for the daily goings of its inhabitants.
Like the saying justice is blind, maybe the world is too.
Like a mother unseeing of her child’s flaws.
But we the inhabitants don’t have the liberty of being children, because the world won’t just stop being a mother. So guess what childhood’s over.
It’s time to put away all those guns synonymous with a child’s pea shooter. To put away all those stink bug bombs, all those parking lot fist fights all that sibling hate.
The monsters in the closet are real. That hand wrapped around your ankle leading off into the dark under your bed. Hate and brutality is etched into the dry papery skin of that hand and arm. The monster in the closet is made up up of apathy and fear.
It’s time to take the night light out of the wall and face those monsters on their home turf.