Life always seemed to be outside the realm of our expertise,
and as unrepentant as one can be, we thrived on the idea
that any seemingly genuine feeling other than all the anguish
that one could muster would turn out to be nothing but a façade,
so instead we have been collecting stains since time immemorial
and, ever eager for a gaze into the abyss, continue to do so.
But what’s most bizarre is that we truly intend to celebrate
our forlorn retirement as if we were mere spectators
in this panopticon.