Houses Built on Sand
After the apocalypse of the 20th century — and how strange it is, to have been born in 1982, after the apocalypse, and to have only read about the apocalypse (apocalypse averted) in books and movies — with modernist totalitarianism and postmodernist postcolonialism, we now begin to wake up and wipe our eyes.
We stare at the sun.
We look at the foundations of our houses, and see that they were built on sand. The sand is sand all the way down, like Stephen Hawking’s turtles.
The choice is clear. We leave our sinking houses, and venture out into the trackless deserts, always dancing, so that we don’t sink. Our ground can no longer provide us with our truths. Only our dancing.