Amalgamation. That is what we are. We possess the expatriates of other states. Our exploitation and substances mineral and otherwise has given us the times too little. But has formed us into a mix of other ciders. This in turn has given us the spirit of each state, the hunger, the dreams. The temperament and the sizable sheen. Forgotten neglected when no longer useful, exploited and double crossed. Our people are the left over squatters of opportunity, residing in our little grey city, dripping to the white coastal towns, for peeping in the cracks of an old red dwelling town. We must be set straight. We are armed with the arrangement we have articulated and amalgamation. So often our metal is tested, outmatched from vast metals. Why should we believe it is ours after all? Ootha, black flies, blue sky, red dust, a broken hill, white sun. We rely so often on what can't be grasped. It is a power within the person and the people, hidden and hard to harness, but also impossible to completely oppose. West in Australia. With its city of the black swan isolated from her others' cool home. We double down on our distance. Fences and secession serve only to illustrate the reverse effects of our obsession. Others hopping over cannot be quelled. People with glinty eyes and feral smiles smother the other and smother ourselves. It takes an active effort to complement such sin-o-e-soldiers. Resistance is futile, but compliance is versatile. It is too late to win the sovereignty of an amalgamation. Never, until you are a leechless earth, will you be the fallen to yourself completely. Capability comes with culpability. The fear that the business ensues through hanging hunger is complemented by the wine and sunshine.