Have you heard enough? Bear these words as battle scars. Let the thoughts that comfort you find a vessel to speak through and consecrate the path you choose. Time sharpens its blade on rocks alone and ambition don’t mean much tethered to stone. You reinforce an artificial choice between contested cradles and cast out toys. This game is rigged; only the pleas of cowards, slaves and fatalists remain. I see an untarnished veneer. A model pioneer accomplishing nothing at all. Exiles stay their course.
You know I never could distinguish between justice and revenge. The shadows of success and failure intersect. The moments between sleep and wake evade us every single day like transients on liminal highways. The poisoned chalices that you’d rather forget forever rusted solid to your hands, bound to your assets. The end you want will come, a feat of strength observed by everyone. You can keep your comic interludes and the crowds you pander to.