Unity, I thought, implies the possibility of disunity. Beginnings imply and require endings.

What, after all, was the point of civilisation if not the well-being of citizens?

Without feelings insignificant decisions become excruciating attempts to compare endless arrays of inconsequential things. It's just easier to handle those with emotions.

Falling didn't bother me. I could fall forever and not be hurt. It's stopping that's the problem.

Or is anyone's identity a matter of fragments held together by convenient or useful narrative, that in ordinary circumstances never reveals itself as a fiction? Or is it really a fiction?

Thoughts are ephemeral, they evaporate in the moment they occur, unless they are given action and material form. Wishes and intentions, the same. Meaningless, unless they impel you to one choice or another, some deed or course of action, however insignificant. Thoughts that lead to action can be dangerous. Thoughts that do not, mean less than nothing.

It's the people without the money and the power, who desperately want to live, for those people small things aren't small at all.