Spun tight are we. Spun tight in our beliefs. Spun tight in our brainwash. Spun tight in a world awash in ignorance. Dealing with a reality not understood. Convictions evolved to make sense. Make sense of what the senses allow, of the jungle that surrounds. Evolved to relieve angst, have something to hold on to, cling to in the maelstrom. Parroting nonsense generation to generation. Believing all that’s told. Blinded with local thought, local prejudice. Firm in our acceptance. Beliefs from a dearth of knowledge. So sure. So sure, with no reason to be. Infancy still.