You fell off the tree of fucked-up-weird and slammed every branch on the way down.

Ye are the fruits of one tree and the leaves of one branch.

A branch cannot live independently from the tree – it will wither

Points are not the point. The point is poetry.

Nothing is permanent. The only thing any of us have in common is the inevitable. We'll all eventually die.

Even if one tree falls down it wouldn't affect the entire forest.