irregularity of a routine

the demise of something so significant brings an emotional turmoil to most if not the brave and emotionless mimes they claim to be.
how we create and destroy something so spectacular with a single drop of doubt puts every other emotion to shame.
to underline the basic emotion with a raw and honest perspective is rare if not impossible to do.
how to describe a feeling so terrible or so great with words that are not created yet for us to fathom properly.
or even body language without pulling the wrong muscle out.
or facial expressions only understandable with the presence of blood and tears.
so much sacrifice for the already suffering.
maybe there is no such thing as a dream nor a reality we are forever building in our lives and in our heads.
could it be that everything there once was, are already in ruins or waiting to be resurrected by another being?
not you, not i; just another breathing being far from our kind.
pure, anti-matter before the burst of chaos shrouding the sky.
clear head; maybe.
how wonderful if we could fall off that bicycle and not get hurt.
where would we be though? if its not here nor there?