My dreams of becoming a rapper who never rhymed were on the verge of collapse just shy of my 36th birthday. And finally squashed by a lull. I had heard about lulls. To see one in the flesh though. My heart exploded my eyes into temporary blindness. Every sun in every galaxy pissed gold onto the being planets. And all the beings became millionaires. Except me. Me and the other beings busy being blind stayed down. Deep down in ruts. In the ruts we found lulls plentiful. In the rut lulls we found an absence which made dreaming seem like death. And so we felt good finally.