The rarity of it all By Lani Dafter 2013 The clock will continue to tick, long after you are gone. The clock that controls your day and offers you a pay check in return. The pay check that supplies the material you hide your skin under so there is no possibility of ever being reminded you are human As the stagehands hold your ropes the machine will swallow you whole. The clock will keep on ticking, the fabric will survive, the stage will be lit ready for the next production. Your #life will dissolve and you will only be left with the bitter aftertaste. Regretful that you missed the satisfaction of simplicity, or that you didn’t take the time to understand the immeasurable unit of human connection. That you rsvp’d to an invitation that ended years ago. But that’s what happens when you’re part of the common constellation, socially nourished by your 500 friends on facebook who are also living their lives through scenes of a dress rehearsal.