You still can’t see it. It’s there, the truth, stabbing you in the face with a dull razor blade crusted with the filth of your shaving cream, but you can’t feel it. You can’t smell the musky scent of your own aftershave cologne perfume coated all over it, wafting up to your nostrils like smoke from a barbeque. The filth of the entire situation makes me wretch, my stomach churns and I crawl away in disgust as the truth stares you down and you look right past it at yourself in the mirror and just keep smiling. Happy happy happy, bunny rabbits in fields with pink skies and all around you the marshmallow fences are picketing their ways into the hearts of the millions of happy citizens, sleeping in their homes with their Godzilla lunch boxes, going to Taco Bell to eat a Gordita cause it’s the latest thing and then you go home in your car and you kill a few animals every time you press down on that gas pedal but who gives a fuck cause you want to get home to your wife and your son and your daughter cause they are hungry and they aren’t gonna eat till you are at that table and maybe you accelerate too quickly and you are dead and that scares you every day cause you don’t wanna die cause death is scary. But you are happy, happy happy with your razor blade and I am puking in the toilet and you can’t see me either cause I am a figment of my own imagination and I am just observing.

You still don’t see it, even as I sit here pointing it out to you. The truth in your hand. The truth of your fingers. The truth that is you. Ah fuck, if I can’t jam it down your face and have you see it then you are blind. Yep. You are blind. So maybe that’s the end, and you slam your car into the side of a semi and then you are gone, to some state of bliss maybe. Or some eternal damnation maybe. Or maybe you just go to play Bingo with the old people at the local fire department or the old folks home or something. Or maybe you are *poof* gone and then blackness and you are pretty much sleeping but not.

Or maybe you are staring at yourself in the mirror and you’ve got that razor blade and just for a second there you almost saw the truth. It’s in your hand. It’s liable to bite you.