Vol 8, Num 21 :: 2009.10.30 — 2009.11.12
I have three enemies.
The first is hunger and with it all physical need. This one is the easiest to defeat.
The second is loneliness. This one is more difficult because as the stomachs of our loneliness are filled with togetherness, oftentimes we prefer the hunger.
My third enemy is fear. Fear beats me every time.
Hunger.
Loneliness.
Fear.
I will hunt them down. I will kill them in their sleep.
I will fight dirty because they stole my soul.
They tore it into ten billion pieces and counting, and they hid them
all mixed up with the pilfered souls of everything else.
I have only an empty space where my soul should be,
and none of the suffering scooped out into my hands belongs to me in the first place.
My soul waits for me in the bellies of the hungry,
the hearts of the lonely,
and the souls of the afraid.
I go to meet with it, and these are to be my weapons:
every word an invitation
every glance a welcome
every thought a prayer
May these three enemies be slaughtered and their bones danced into mud.
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