I don’t want so much to make a difference. Far, far, far, immeasurably less, to BE the difference.

I just want to keep my integrity in a world that is a graveyard of consciences that once were muscular and powerful, and souls that once were sincere and genuine and authentic.

If I cannot do this, I will have lost everything.

And I deserve to perish forever.

Let me then cultivate a little worthy of the grace and beauty commended unto me.

Though I should disappoint my beloved ones a thousand times, and yea a thousand times ten thousand over, let this seed of truth and virtue perish utterly from the treasurehouse of my soul.

For I am weak, and the world is mighty.

Be with me in my fear.

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