chitbong

Kurtz: We train young men to drop fire on people, but their commanders won't allow them to write "fuck" on their airplanes because it's obscene!

Willard: I'm a soldier.
          
          Kurtz: You're neither. You're an errand boy, sent by grocery clerks, to collect a bill.

“You will never find justice in a world where criminals make the rules.”

“A politician divides mankind into two classes: tools and enemies.”
          - Friedrich Nietzsche

Tôi nhìn đám kiến bu quanh miếng dán ngực đã qua sử dụng của mình:

Sexy plaything
          With twinkling earrings
          And alcohol in the dark.
          Love is light years away
          And one day she’ll die with regrets.
          
          My love
          One day I’ll forget your name.
          The love you demanded but didn’t give back.
          The hatred that you sowed.
          
          There are traitors among us
          Aiding the establishment
          Keeping their mouths shut.
          Silence is compliance.
          They imprison us inside these concrete walls.
          I feel so disconnected with life.
          I feel so disconnected with love.
          They want to rip us off our will,
          Our lives off meaning.
          I did not know who my enemies are.
          I do now.
          
          Give them comfort
          The illusion of safety
          Security
          And stability
          So that they won’t revolt against you.
          
          People need faith.
          They’ll latch on to anything.
          A false god
          Righteousness
          The illusion of Eden.
          No one wants to believe 
          We’re living in vain
          Serving madmen and overlords.
          
          A heretic belief gets one lost.
          Let me be a commoner again.
          Let me dream the familiar dreams.
          
          The pretty girl gets to be pretty
          But the sex creature is exiled to the desert.
          There is not a single thing that can entertain me in this city.
          Not a single man.
          The caged birds.
          The industrial machines.
          The digital dreams.
          
          There is no greener grass on the other side of the fence.
          Only my hilltop.
          My meadow.
          
          I’m fed up with this city
          And its concrete walls.
          This false man-made Eden.
          There’s no God.
          There’s no country.
          I’ve died a thousand deaths
          And today it is just another one.
          
          Has the world lost its grandeur?
          Have I lost my mind?
          Tell me what is wrong with me, love.
          I barely talked to you when I was there.
          Not enough words to fill half a page.
          But I talk to you every night in my mind now
          Wondering where did it all go wrong?
          
          What are you?
          What am I?
          I’m a ghost.
          You’re a stranger.
          
          Now I can’t muster up the courage.
          Can’t muster up the poem.
          The faith is false.
          Demanding.
          Vicious.
          The selfish little girl was right all along.
          
          I tried to love.
          I tried to believe.
          I tried to live.
          In the face of faithlessness.

“Have pity on them all, for it is we who are the real monsters.”
          - Bernard Heuvelmans

Đó là một thằng oắt bằng tuổi tôi còn chưa bao giờ gặp.
          
          Nó làm lộ ra những điều tồi tệ nhất của một nửa gia đình tôi. Và bản thân tôi. Nó nhấn chìm tất cả trong một nấm mồ. Tất cả những gì còn lại là sự im lặng hoá thinh không.
          
          Lương tâm không bao giờ quay trở lại. Chỉ còn nỗi đau và sự ghim lại trong tâm trí về những lời thú nhận tàn nhẫn. Gia đình trở thành những kẻ xa lạ. Chúa trời. Đất nước. Gia đình. Tất cả đều là dối trá. Niềm tin là sự dối trá.
          
          Con người muốn nhào nặn cuộc đời này thành một thứ gì khác. Nhưng tôi muốn trở thành bá chủ của cuộc đời mình. Bỏ qua những định kiến cố hữu, bước qua những vết thương lòng chưa bao giờ lành của kẻ khác.

“Following orders has never been, and will never be, an excuse for personal action.”
          - @vincentproud6589

“In individuals, insanity is rare; but in groups, parties, nations and epochs, it is the rule.”
          - Friedrich Nietzsche