This mind is my own, no one else I can blame, for feelings of anger, elation, or shame, things never are constant or very stable, all I know is that I'm indomitable. Not hatred can rule me, not death and not vice, not pox and not sickness, not even head-lice, there's little to do now but sit silently, my rump in the dirt and by back to a tree, and watch as the seasons around me do tilt, and skyscrapers crumble – all things man has built. For this is my purpose, the one I now choose, there's little to gain and far less left to lose, but watching as shadows with each other blend, surrounded as needed by sibling and friend. So come now, ye hearties, once more to the breech, together our foes we've some manners to teach, for ours is the present, the future, and past, we've nothing to lose but a steady repast, we've so much to let go of, and to rescind, our time here is wasting so let us begin.
© americanifesto / 場黑麥
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