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the words they bind me the words they scorn me the words they fear we are only the truth only the windy end from the start the words they kill we have none they have none this is only one from the start
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To get ahead. To be on top. To get to the end. To find out. To get
there. To achieve. To excel. To walk with fire. To fear everything and
hear nothing. To go where no one has failed to go before. These are things
that drive. Things that push. Things that pull. The forces that be. The
causes that ignite. The vessels for which we painstakingly live our
lives.
They say we are not as the animals are. They say we are different because
we think. They say we are not animals of
instinct. That we ignore our instinctual drives
to do what we will. They say we will. I say we have and that we are, but
that we don't will. We follow our will, but we don't decide it. We are
driven by the fear of pain, the pain of love, the love of fear. |
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We only
know what we have been known to know. Why am I talking in riddles. I don't
feel like I know anymore than I am. Yet somehow these riddles and
incoherent incomplete sentences pile up and give me more ground to stand on.
More playthings to manipulate. I feel like I have things to say, but that
you are not ready. How do I know, you ask? Well... how do you know I
don't?
We are driven by a few small things. They all add up to a small few things, and yet they are our driving energies. They are what push pull twist turn tear apart our souls for a measly two dollar bill. They are those words. The words they kill.
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