Dreams are crazy, absurd, wild, the concoctions of a naive 5 year old who wants to get married in front of monkeys because she thinks monkeys are pretty cool. But knowledge, knowledge wears thick reading lenses and whispers that giant spheres of plasma do not grant wishes. Knowledge demands certainty. And I am certain of nothing.
These people live in isolation on a farm of misery, growing intolerable crops as they squeeze haterade from their cows’ teats and mix marijuana into bales of hay so they can ride around on their high horses.