clang and clang , rusted steel against uneven aluminum , the hollow , empty mechanics howling -- like a child meeting a belt for the first time -- this decay and odor of technical beasts living in our houses with us , giving us more time for emotional/mental/physical decay , this drying process speeded , as if the sun was not good enough , hot enough , as if soap and water writhing between our hands was inefficient , as if our bodies deserved more than we provide , as if we could not take care of ourselves , the perpetual adolescence was real , but it was not this generations fault , but the one before it , the excuses coming and coming , mt .