Verse 8:13

I am tired.
I live in a world full of donkey children on Pleasure Island.
Children raised in broken society.
The blind lead.
The blind cannot see because they turn their heads.
Heads full of bitter waste.
Waste pilling up in the air, water, and ground.
Solidarity has no solid ground.
Bleak is the view.
Am I alone, am I the only?
I am tired of the mask of religion covering the monster's face.
The monster that ate my father and stole my innocence.
"I am not a Christian."
I do not participate in the witchdoctor magic show.
Ghosts, spirits, the future, they are all myths. Not real.
"I am a human who is in the process of being, now do you mind?"
Fighting fires leads to human combustion.
There are many problems in this world, yea many a dark hour.
But I say to you, until the source is broken, the demons will continue to immerge.
It is in our interest to be bold, to say exactly what we mean.
It is within us to be outward, wear your soul on your sleeve.
Be transparent and awkward, be vulnerable.
I love you all, for the sake of the future, even if it is just a myth.