This is to show that if we feel people should read/hear what we
have created, decided, learnt, discovered, felt, seen, done etc,
then we can express it. What does one do? What would one do? What
should one do? What does one do, when they tell you they've
betrayed you? What would one do, When they say they're sorry? What
should one do, when you question the innocence, when you doubt the
un-intentions, of not your lover, but his accomplice? . . . .
Alcohol. The Brew of Gods, of Champions of Heroes, . . . Or so they
say... The broth that releases ones inhibitions, that opens the
prison bars, and frees the ID That reduces the holiest man, to a
maniacal animal, blinded by lust, and encouraged by hunger. "They
were drunk!" they say, like it's an instant, benevolent alibi, a
magic phrase that encourages forgiveness. A stupid mistake,
____that stabs like a hooked knife. It isn't their fault, ____but
you feel it's yours. . . . . . What does one do? What would one do?
What should one do? You fight ___the pain. You dodge ___the knife.
You heal ___the wound. You sew ___resolve. You collect ___your due.
You know ___your rights. You administer ___your justice. You
maintain ___your balance. You continue ___forward. You erase ___the
board. Then until next time, . . . . _-_-_-TABULA RASA