Vortex of daily horrors

What’s to be said when descending a vortex,
where best advice is to close one’s mouth
and block one’s ears with music (the only escape),
whilst offering any kindness at hand
to whomever one might encounter?

The vortex of daily horrors, which, once disturbed,
circulates with ever-increasing speed and intensity.

In this fix, the constants, such as they are,
become concrete: a compass of sorts
with which to orientate one’s options;
the best, perhaps, one can hope for.