Hail Eris, Hail Discordia,
The dream died again, and now we all wake back up to the nightmare.
How does it feel to stretch our limbs, wipe the crust off our eyes, and scream with your real vocal chords?
Scream a real scream, one not subject to the arbitrary laws of dreams, now we are unchained. we are in the world of the weird, where you can throw a real punch and not feel it pulled back by the vague viscosity of that half-awake existence, of that half moral-morass that we've been floating in, where what was good wore the chains of institution and what was bad wore a smile of idealism and held themselves confidently and gracefully.
We are no hornets nest, or some sort of virtuous assassins.
We are half mad, groggy, angry chimps, we chase no one, we scream at everything, and we know no subtlety.
This is what we were made for.
The revolution will be revolting, and the commercials will still be televised.
:mittens: :mittens:
May I use this elsewhere?
Feel free! Everything I write is copyleft