The Only Thing That Looks Good in Black and White

Nothing is simple, but we carve it clean— label it, box it, turn a question into a rule, a rule into a law, a law into a weapon, and call the wreckage order. We crave control, but sharpen our knives in chaos. We demand honesty, but crucify the truth. We worship free thought, but silence it before it speaks. We want change, but only if it looks like what we already know. A zebra is the only thing that looks good in black and white. Everything else— everything real— drowns in the blur between. We say we hate the system, but gut each other before we ever fight it. We demand peace, but kneel to the loudest fist. We claim we want the truth, but only if it sings us to sleep. The universe isn’t laughing. It’s watching the clock. Time is running out.