Underdogs and Tidal Waves

Southside of Mellow
2012-04-21 10:16:00 (UTC)

Russian Revolution

I have incited rage for my indiscretions and way of being.
I have burned my bridges, made enemies of friends.
It's become like factory-living.
The greatest and most consistent emotion felt is scorn.
There is dissent amongst the ranks.
A love of duty has diminished.
There is a thought to becoming a deserter just out of spite.
They've used guilt to destroy, cut you up, make you feel unworthy.
I've been made to feel like I'm carrying a cross for all my transgressions and that is nothing to soothe to brunt of anger and betrayal.

I know that I need to get away from here, but I've committed my life with blind resolve.
This place has become a prison.
There are no real friends.
I am cornered and barred, living as if being observed from a panopticon.
My red letter is burned upon my head.
I am not like these people. I have never enjoyed this place.
I must swear off of it.
It makes my nights sleepless, fills me with utter dread.


"I want it now
Not the promises of what tomorrow brings...
And I want more than I can give"




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