And even in our sleep pain that cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart, and in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom to us by the awful grace of God. Aeschylus
FUCK, does it? but it feels what Dr. King called the fierce urgency of now. I am running because I do believe there’s such a thing as being too late. And that hour waves like steamy breeze, and the bone feel is almost here. Has the statistics of nature might already bound?, does the will still have place on our being? can the mystery still be part or the history have tape unreachable balance.
where the unconquerable gladness that should let us dwell is? how we load that fiercy of water before the lighting cross us down.... how? may nature show his grace or damn the ones that came just too fucking late, what a stupid fate.
FDR, MLK, RFK, BO, LCP REMIX