nothing is to be feared only to be understood, intoxicated often does what the sober would, if he thought he could, if he had the power, he¹d abuse it and that seems clear to me. What is dear to me, is also fear to me, because pain is the price of what I hold near to me, to which I¹m attached and I can¹t light the match, if I did I¹d see everything I think I lack, is right here already, I¹m a part of it, not the end and nor am I the start of it, but apart nonetheless, scared of what is under flesh and everything i cant posses so instead i disconnect. And to numb the stress, take a blunder guess, rather than know, I don¹t know and just accept, I view it as a test and I must pass, it¹s only real if its something that I must grasp, nothing else counts a bit if I cant count it quick, so lets count figures, let us count figures. Figures in the bank, figures mowed down by tanks, the steel boot of the figure stamps on the ants, but they want more than figures, we ain¹t figured that we need Œthem¹ and we¹re projecting the reflection of how were really feeling, when we kick Œthem¹ kill Œthem¹, leave Œthem¹ there dying bleeding and say they did it first, we are just getting even. And repeated until it¹s something that we can believe in, the truth is that inside we are screaming and we hate ourselves that¹s why we act this way, when we strike out we should punch ourselves in the face, that is what we¹re really doing, got no clue what we¹re pursing, the mirror or the million, what are we really viewing? We can take a microscope and analyze atoms or telescopes to the sky, the same thing happens, it¹s the same picture, they both go on forever, so when we place limits on things, is that clever? In fact I define myself by my limitations, my station or my status or my silly faith in papers. The type that I read or the type that say i¹ve read, the type for which they bleed or the type that say you bled and now the ego¹s fed but never had its fill, so until we shed, let¹s accept the deal, we will steal and will kill just for the thrill, that¹s my dose of truth, give me the blue pill and let me swallow, wallow now in my sorrow, don¹t want to find my own truth it¹s easier to borrow.