Your books remind me of struggling dreams, like running toward your drowning mother with limbs that move glacially. We can imagine a less frustrating existence, but our human shortcomings prevent us. Do you see any means of approximating the divide?
I am grateful that I am not in the solutions business. By "approximating the divide" I take it you're asking about how to navigate daily life, and I lack the authority to advise anyone on this. Fiction is a good place, for me, to test out the darker possibilities. We have nightmares for a reason. They are ultimately a safe place to be overwhelmed by outside forces. Fiction is similar — it makes a viable space for the worst to occur, and I think there's some comfort in that.