“Those who profess to favor freedom, and yet depreciate agitation, are men who want crops without plowing up the ground. They want rain without thunder and lightning. They want the ocean without the powerful roar of its many waters.”

...you’ll say “fine” and ask me how I’m doing.
And then I’ll lie…
Golden haze… another morning, feels like yesterday.

let it end in flames—let it burn all the way down.