Last night, I dreamt

that I was on a hill beside a body of water.

I was not alone.

There were many other people there.

Groups of these people were trying to roll a massive, heavy cylinder up the hill. They'd go a bit, slip, then they would either be crushed by the cylinder

or killed by the impact into the water.

And there was nothing I could do about it.

The masses wouldn't stop trying; they didn't see that what they were doing, no matter how virtuous or whatever, that it was killing them.

And it killed me to watch them die from being so foolish.

They wouldn't listen.

They couldn't see their folly.

They let their closed minds end them

while I lived on with the memory.

I had no impact.

They went along their own way because they thought they knew best

when they really, really didn't.