• Nations are torn by force, by a government too blinded by their own false eyes, they see and hear what they fear. Cowering behind the problems they can't fix. The war on substance, on what can't be stopped. A whole citizenship of morose ******** clawing for something that can't be there, regardless of how hard they wish, how many useless battles they launch into, how much they ignore, how many innocents they allow to be slaughtered, or slaughter themselves. A nation of the blind, the veiled living of a militant man. He is dead in my eyes.
    this is where he lives as a starving artist with a broken hand, where he fears not, but knows little of anything of real importance. a false world, materialized, broken down into glitches and habits, facial ticks and traumatizing experiences. a time of senseless occurences that lack depth or substance, a formidable opponent, hence, a nation split into segments, each more foolish than the last. to bring down a civilization with little assistance, to carry out a systematic destruction of humanity, to feel the burn of a strained power, captivated by limitless miracles. a miracle of falsehoods and sparkling eyes. the miracle of Godliness, which will never exist as a whole, for the God you seek has no power over those of intelligence. God in country, and 'till death do you part, you and your God, who accepts and incourages your violence, your ruthless destruction of the tainted and depraved.