A slippery mental landscape is not always made out of the same material.
One can slip on the ice of detachment.
One can slip into fear, and out of hope.
Confusion never understands another culture, without the aid of questions.
Confusion smells like the innocence of a child just spanked.
Innocence is followed by a bully called rage.
Often rage is an immigrant from another mind.
Rage never asks the right questions.
This other mind wishes to occupy you.
Rage kicks doors open.
Rage has weather patterns.
The fog of rage can slip under a door.
It is an ear full of itself.
It has followers, and some are called ‘ditto heads’.