Our flags will always fly at half-mast, because there's always something new to mourn.
It stops feeling like a tragedy when it happens every fucking day.
Every new misfortune gives the voiceless another chance to speak.
Stand on the backs of the dead and the killers, pound your chest and cast your stones.
Stand on the backs of the dead like a hero, do your best to be noticed.
Each new disaster is a platform to spread divisive propaganda.
It’s some kind of misguided search for validation, or maybe a blind gesture of ignorant loyalty.
Fuck it (all).
This world is ruled by a new kind of terror.
We’ve become our own worst enemies, pointing fingers at each other until there’s nothing left.
I want to set this world on fire, and watch every man, woman, and child burn.
I want to sleep on their ashes, and know the peace of solitude and silence.