It's the sense of touch. In any real city, you walk, you know? You brush past people, people bump into you. In L.A., nobody touches you. We're always behind this metal and glass. I think we miss that touch so much, that we crash into each other, just so we can feel something.
And so we do, crash into each other because of confused boundaries or simply, unwillingness to listen to each other properly because it takes effort - there's always that colour, always that difference we try to hit on right before we see any other features, and it's sad and foolish we all need a catastrophe, an accident, a life-threatening wake-up call before we realise we're all one and the same, that we've all got fathers getting old and weak with illness, that we're deep down inside insecure and unsure of our identities from time to time, that all we need is some forgivin and some lovin and some setting free from the system that corrupts and handicaps us, that beneath these boundaries we're all so necessarily human and flawed. Why, why? do people need big shockers to jolt their perspectives in place, when, by the time they happen, it's too late sometimes...?
And we all crash, crash into a mire of anger, finger-pointing and blame-shoving...
It's the sense of touch.
