Holding ground before a stampeding herd of cattle is sure to get your miserableness trampled.
These bovine beasts have one goal, survival of their body.
They’ll never open their ears until they’ve fallen off the cliff. They’re mechanical. You can hear their gears as they charge past, hearing them claim their circuits are too simple for such things.
Eager to disassemble consideration, they’re unwilling to add more cogs than prior decisions allow. They remain automated, as it’s easier to be spiritually defective while cattle calling truth and reveling in ignorance.