I'm disgusting. I disgust me.
These stumps. These stumps will never bring any beauty, or truth.
These pins. These scarred, charred cracking pins will never walk a beautiful mile upholding a beautiful mind thinking a beautiful thought. Never. Ever.
A thousand people will die to uphold this fascile monstrosity.
Lord, please help.
The seeds are there. There are no shortcuts or rivers to drink from or genes or blood.
Surely, lord, please.
It can work.
It has to work.