In the confusion, there are moments when you feel sane. You can see the straight path in the midst of the chaos— or it may just be a sudden contraction of temporary blindness.
Nevertheless, in that sobriety, you can sense…something that is not doom. And in this moment, you know that something must be — has to be — wrong. What right have you to be levelheaded when the water has risen six feet above your head? Absolutely none.
So you’re tempted to invite the chronic panic of counter-productivity back into your mind so you can feel correctness in the shatters.
Logic loses meaning.
Some things shouldn’t be right.