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There was enough noise out there to hide any truth.
Mix truth and lies and you couldn’t tell them apart.
He had a sudden urge to head for one of the lounges and watch TV, just let the hours slide past until he finally needed to be somewhere. This was how the shift was supposed to go. Waiting and then doing. Sleeping and then waiting. Make it to dinner and then make it to bed. The end was always in sight. There was nothing to rebel against, just a routine.
People talked of the end coming with barely concealed smiles. Their prayer was that when they went, they wouldn’t go alone. Their hope was that no one would have the good fortune to come after and live a happy life without them.
It had felt like this, the lies and the truth intermingling and shielding one another.
“When there’s only God to blame, we forgive him. When it’s our fellow man, we destroy him.”
that it was a burden doing what he knew to be correct, to be sound and logical.”
“And how much simpler things would be, how much better for us all, if we had people brave enough to do what was right, instead.”
Donald was reminded how each silo had a mayor for shaking hands and keeping up appearances, just as the world of before had presidents who came and went. Meanwhile, it was the men in the shadows who wielded the true power,
those whose terms had no limits.
That this silo operated by the same deceit should not be surprising; it was the only way such m...
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It explains the great quandary of why the most depressed societies are those with the fewest wants.
The hard things got easier the more you did them.
