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if you ever find someone that has a need you can fill, then you should fill it.”
“Peace,” I scoff. “Since when has peace brought change? The cost of peace is being compliant to whatever our government decides without our say. That’s not peace, that’s enslavement.
“I’m not your problem, Soldier.” “No, what you are, is my fucking reason,” I declare, pulling back slightly to command her eyes. “My reason to fight and my reason to come home. You are home. Haven’t you figured that out yet?”
“HE WHO MAKES a beast of himself gets rid of the pain of being a man.”
I’m close to running out of mental ink. Daily, I feel like I’m watching multiple explosive-filled cargo trains speeding toward one another on a rapidly appearing track, with little to no way to stop them.
But wounded animals—especially when cornered—are their most vicious because of hurts others can’t see.
