I remember the first time I saw it. Tried to find words to describe it, but I couldn’t. Nothing had prepared me, no books, no teachers, not even my parents. I heard a thousand stories but none could describe this place. It must be witnessed to be understood. And yet, I’ve seen it, and understand it even less than before I first cast eyes on this place. Some call it the American Desert, others, the Great Plains. But those phrases were invented by professors at universities surrounded by the illusion of order and the fantasy of right and wrong. To know it, you must walk it. Bleed into its dirt. Drown in its rivers. Then its name becomes clear. It is hell, and there are demons everywhere. But if this is hell, and I’m in it, then I must be a demon too. And I’m already dead.
This place and this world will not last if we don’t change it for the better. It’s only a matter of time; it will get worse.
The best place to hide something from someone is the first place they look. If it’s obvious, no one looks close.
You both keep assuming that I want out. Whatever that is. If it’s such a wonderful place out there, why are you all clamoring to get in here?[to William and Logan]
What can you say about leaving a place you loved? You hope it made you who you are, challenged your beliefs, pushed you out of your comfort zone, and gave you the strength to demand better. So you’re prepared for what’s to come.
We all come from somewhere. We carry that place with us wherever we go. That never leaves our hearts. Not entirely.