Why try

I try, to instill the tiny little pieces that someone brings up to me with life. A life that transfigures the landscape of this place, a barren landfill of disparity that people keep telling me won't change, can't change, well I know, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to stop trying. And maybe it will change, I would say like a little boy and perhaps I still live life like a little boy, believing in things I simply shouldn't, but god dammit if I have to spend another minute listening to the realist spurt their bullshit about what is fair and equal and utilitarian and how this logic curve and that one will help show the preferences of people, I'll just about lose faith in this. Intangible as it may be, and its pretty intangible, you can't touch it of course, unless you find yourself fallen on the ground, face in the grit, spitting out little spectacles of dust from your mouth so that you may get up again and trip and get up again and trip. It's quite disheartening. So that is why I try to keep being there as you get up, instilling in those spectacles a purpose, so that you will be able to transfigure the landscape and I, can finally smile at the point of it all.