Gravity employs its ever constant force to manipulate the course of action all over the earth, pinning us down, bitter peals of laughter erupt like molten ash and lava out of her crusty mouth.  Will she take us for a ride this evening?  Spinning us like cognac in a snifter and then she’ll spit us out on the ***** road, putting us out like cigarette butts.  Her mighty weight is distributed amongst all of our shoulders.  But it seems that some loads are less troublesome than others. May I ask why that is?  Don’t kid yourself though.  Before you go revelling in your glory, be aware that we’ve found ways around you, above you.
Gravity distorts my vision and then leaves me groping around, fighting with perception, fighting with focus, fighting with what’s left of time until I finally collapse, defeated, sprawled almost lifeless on the cold tiled floor while you’re still ripping me apart.  
I’d just say that I give up.  I’ve said it millions of times before, but for some reason I’m still here.  I think apathy has replaced the blood and marrow in my body, freezing my soul except for the hours in which all of the infections and deteriorations scare the ******* **** out of me.  I wish I could blame all of this on gravity but it’s really all my fault.  One day I’ll pull gravity down and hold it there for 18 plus years and its screams for mercy will be swallowed whole.  We’ll see whose vision is distorted then.