i'm way past convincing people -
    children require the demand of
being believed -
   somehow: as you mature -
your ontology changes and a
subtle variant of apathy seeps
in...
     given...
              as someone who sat in a wheat
field under a tree...
no phone... drinking heavily
and listening to the wind rustle
the shafts -
             singing along to a song -
laughing - crying -
    and then spotting a u.f.o.?
like a jelly-fish luminescent -
    not exactly solid...
              well... m'eh...
   that's nothing...
                    doing the same but
on a log throne in a forest...
    and seeing a garmr -
  cŵn annwn - cerberus:
hellhound -
     chasing a rabbit passing meters
away from...
   well... not that's something...
so... either i wasn't real,
the hellhound surely wasn't...
as was the rabbit...
   yeah... the rabbit wasn't real...
u.f.o. what?
      m'eh...
      come the winter chill -
   i'll be walking back through its
shades and shadows -
seemingly blind -
        probably listening some
demdike stare -
     well **** me.... the album tryptych
set me back 30 quid...
   worth every penny.