They say hope begins in the dark. That faith is the bird that feels light when the sky is still dim. But with every tomorrow we carry our past. It echoes beneath our feet. There are no clean slates.
It is the impractical things in this tumultuous hellscape of a world that matter most. A book, a name, chicken soup. They help us remember that even in our darkest hour, life is still to be savored.
It is not our enemies that defeat us. It is our fear. Do not be afraid of the monsters, Miss Elizabeth. Make them afraid of you.
What we believe shapes who we are. Belief can bring us salvation or destruction. But when you believe a lie for too long, the truth doesn’t set you free. It tears you apart.
Technology advances, but humans don’t. We’re smart monkeys, and what we want is always the same. Food, shelter, sex, and in all its forms, escape.
When everyone lies, telling the truth isn’t just rebellion. It’s an act of revolution. So think carefully when you speak it, because the truth is a weapon.
Peace is an illusion. And no matter how tranquil the world seems, peace doesn’t last long. Peace is a struggle against our very nature. A skin we stretch over the bone, muscle, and sinew of our own innate savagery.