Day 4

Roadburn. Gasworks. Firefly. Tricks. We live in a world rusting, crumbling, slowly decaying beneath the night sky, above the rain-soaked ground, beneath the breath that keeps us alive. The new monuments we build will one day resemble the old, decrepit ones, foundations turning to rubble, thin structures holding onto the last word. We, like pinnacles of industry, are crumbling, rusting, dying, in an ever-present state of entropy. What does it mean when we lose control, when we depend upon someone else to put out the fire? Why do we rise and then fall again?