The world alternates between suffering, revenge, amusement, and unconsciousness. You have no choice, you have always had a choice, and you have already made your decision. Listen, speak, form opinions, known they are only a scratches on the constant scroll of communication. We are all waiting to be heard, and we don’t want to hear what you have to say.

We just want to talk. We just want to end this silence. Silence is suffering. Silence leaves no room for progress, and things cannot stay as they are. Things cannot be. They must progress,

They must advance. We must progress, we must advance, or fall victim to our fears of the future.

Fall victim to our fears of ourselves. Who we are, may as well be who we were, and who we are destined to become if we shut up.

Keep talking. Scream if you have to. Shout if you want to. Be heard, by no one, by everyone. Know that sounds reverberate around our hemisphere for light years. There is never silence, there has never been silence, there will never be silence. Keep on talking, and maybe this will all come back and make sense to us someday.

Justice is every victim’s fantasy. Justice are the tears we weep when we feel helpless, when we have done our paperwork, when we have cleansed our wounds. Justice is the process, and justice must proceed. In our core we know that justice is no such thing. That this is human process, that this is ridiculous. That the only justice we will ever receive, is the one we ourselves create, like everything else– we create justice, just as we have created the wrongs that have been done against us.

Take credit for the universe.

Take credit for your life.

Take credit for who you are.

Take credit for the wishes that have become your reality. Maybe God did not hear your prayers, but you did. You saw opportunity. You created opportunity. You took steps. Nothing is overnight. Ambitions are forever, and a child never forgets their first ever hope. Hope carries on, becomes a reason for drive, becomes a reason to make more of tragedy, to grow from the rubble. A flower that beats the odds, through the weeds, through the dark. We created the sunlight. We create the water. We create the food. Just like we created the refrigerator. Do you understand now?