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"Helga"
It's a steamroller ...
If you stand in its way, it's plain stoopid hoping it'll notice you and avoid you. It'd be a tragic mistake to expect it to considerately look out for you and stop in time just because you're walking there (as "Ratso" Rizzo may have said). It's a steamroller, baby. It'll roll right over you.
It doesn't matter if you're a bad person or a good person. It doesn't matter if you're a nice guy. It especially doesn't matter if you're a nice guy (or a nice gal). It doesn't matter if you say you've done nothing wrong. It's no use asserting your right of way or your freedom of speech. If you stand in its way, even with the best of intentions, you're pancake.
Soon, if you're smart, you'll figure out it'll do whatever it'll do, no matter where you stand, regardless of your approval, with or without your consent, in spite of your opinions to the contrary. Once you realize this, you may look for a better way to relate to it, a more pragmatic way to live with its cosmic indifference other than being flattened by it.
For example, you could attempt to hop on board. You could adroitly step aside, like a matador nimbly getting out of the way of el toro's horns, as it rumbles inexorably toward you. Then, at just the right moment, you could jump on board, up and into the driver's seat. It's still rolling along, of course, disinterested, uncaring, and regardless of whether you agree with its trajectory or not. But at least now you're in the driver's seat. At least now you're riding it. At least now it's not rolling over you. At least now you're not pancake.
While you're up there in the driver's seat riding it, you could even try grabbing the steering wheel and turning it in the direction you want to go. But attempting to steer this goliath, trying to turn this behemoth is futile. You can turn the steering wheel to the left. You can turn it to the right. You could even, like a joystick, push it forward away from you, or you could pull it backward toward you.
