Lock yourself in a padded room. You’re showing signs of failure. Close your eyes the show will resume. Your life lies in the hands of strangers. Spiders crawling under your skin (the hunter becomes the hunted) venom in veins, let the games begin. Shut-ins shut out a feeling of home. What’s caught in your throat. Help me help you choke. Choke on blood of a rival son. The anarchist religion. Human season has finally begun. We’ve waited years to taste them. Wait. The worst of it is yet to arrive. Just buckle up and stare at the sky. Who’s going home tonight. Wait. We’re on a system set to explode. The gravity will beckon us home. Who’s going home. Who’s missing home. Help me help you choke.