Almost over though it feels like may never end, heart-wrenching boredom. I’m like a fussy baby, if I don’t get out of here soon a tantrum will ensue. The voices whisper alongside me, unable to focus on the joke in front of them. This joke is sad, more sad than funny. It won’t get pulled off the stage because the stage is self-created. No one else can stop the machine, its become a monster, a monster not so seldom seen. We can see them on the street now. Its in the classroom and in the house now. Life has become a stage for them. Can we overthrow them or will the anger empower them? Will it fuel them? No more room for self-reflection, their minds are too bloated with self centered hypocrisy to listen to reasoning and logic.