Call me Zhivago. For I too once dreamed of life and love, and revolution for the sake of reform.
War makes monsters of us all. And those who lead us, attempt to climb the pedestals of power, parroting their predecessors in the hopes they’ll find a foothold in our hearts and minds. They tell us these people or this idea is our enemy. They paint pictures with word and withheld knowledge, until faceless demons haunt us. We dream their consumption of our children’s futures. Until finally for “right” we leave our humanity behind us and reason is forgotten. Or removed.
Leave me here and I will join you later. Let what I have left behind remind you, in the end, we all just want someone to care. That is all that matters.