cosmic immortality, suicide
i turn over the pack of zip-ties in my hands. clearly printed on the back:
CONTAINS KNOWN CARCINOGENS
in horror, i put it back where i found it. every other pack says the same thing. i leave with the carcinogens grasped tightly in my hands.
in the wind, anything but leaves are being kicked up. chip bags and straws dance through the skies, un-yielding. my blood courses, carrying micro-plastics in it. rosaries, clutched between the hands, are made out of gleaming, perfect beads of plastic. i wonder if they are made of the same cancer-causing material my zip ties are.
a dead bird, half eaten, lies on the sidewalk. it is the first truly organic thing i have seen all day. it has flown into a window, crashed into one of the silken glass skyscrapers. i want to drag my head across the endless concrete until my skull is sandpapered open, pink bloody brain spilling all across this flawless modern piece of architecture. i go home. try to ignore how many things are tainted by the unnatural.
outside, the world is eating itself alive.
rapture wasn't meant to look like this.