Retaliation.

It's just a friendly reminder, the constant obstruction of human life in favor of the not-so-subtle call of something none of us know how to control.

We are at carrying capacity. All of us on this place, trying to make the best of our emotions, our pasts, our futures. Something must, must, must give. And so it is. Slowly, but surely, in large fluctuations that draw screams from the most isolated beings, it is giving. Way. To something else. 

I am sitting at this window, looking down at this entire valley of nearly identical, cement and brightly roofed houses before me, and I can't help but wonder how long we have left.