Is mount Olympus the hill you want to die on, god died and he made you, a black dude, you could be another banal generality, or become a superstar, and die before you’re thirty, no one can deny you'd be great, but as a person, it’s sort of contained within an immaturity, like your head climbed into your ass way too early, so much exists and there’s so many ways to live, if you continued forward, you may have to climb down the hill, but maybe you'd be able to rest, your back against the grass, and you could look up at the stars, broken-head and a spiritual sea, your mind would expand, and you’d grow as a person, but you’d have to give up the idea, that you’re better than everyone, Jesus Christ and all the crypt-keepers, maybe it’s at least better than that, not even Sascha, not even Tanya, no matter what, if you just kept going, you’d probably see, there’s so much more than your shitty idea of the height, your weird understanding of the devil, and your sad rebellion against the heavens, a worm wriggles, four inches, god exists in so many ways, and we can only explore so much, to give it up at twenty seven, like your afraid the world would look, weigh it all on a scale and judge, it amounted to this, sure you're great, you and your hill, but in the greater scope, so much is achieved without you, maybe you marked your place, and left on a journey, all work is good work, how does a spirit flow, or how sturdy is a cup, what is value and what is blasphemy, who knows, but maybe the world can always use more art...

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