Never let it be said that my results prove me a mistake. Those with a stake in falsehood would have you believe it. My path proves nothing. My truth stands for itself. I am on the end of a spectrum, and so it is to be expected that I struggle in this mediocre pyre where tall trees are torn down. Take my truths and use them wisely. But never believe the lie that those with eyes to see are doomed to be down-trodden. I see a time when good will rule again. But I must commit strokes to pen, in an attempt to open up the grove. Expand, be a twirling Neo among a sea of Smith bots, a whirling maelstrom, attacking every shore to shore up treasures for the future. Someone has to be the entrepreneur and the swashbuckling corsair. I don’t care! Columbus sailed and so should you, don’t be a land-lubber! It’s bland. And boredom eventually breeds death. Therefore blandness is a sin!
Expand your minds or you will find existence a rather trite insistence on suffering. Open sesame!