My blood runs thick on this Land of Libertie, since before its self-liberation. Furthermore, my siblings and I carry a name 600 years old, a German/Latin hybrid as rich and deep as the soil my forebears once worked. We are the last few of a waning ken, the remaining three who can pass along this name, this heritage, to future generations. We are Daugher and Sons of the American revolution, quiet and stoic and wise and brave, fragile and tender and giving and kind. We are worthy mutts, fringe-beings obliged to greatness, to glory, to godliness. With this in mind, I clawed myself out and away from the grasp of addiction and sadness and fear, undergoing one of the greatest journeys that a person can undertake, the process of self-discovery, self-evalutaion, self-healing, self-mastery; I did this because I owe it to the generations that laid the bricks of the path I now walk to be the best and brightest man I can be, to live the good and the virtuous life. If, by example, I inspire a few other souls to save themselves from destitution, darkness, and despair, I might then find time to rejoice, but, the focus now and forever more shall be on my own mind, my own feelings, my own thoughts, my own time, my own majesty, and not on that of others. So be it. Aho.
mentiri factorem fecit – 場黑麥
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