The only idea of being safe I have felt in this life is the idea I will one day be dead. Being born into a world in the unconditional care of a mother who had given up on everything except caring for her children allowed me to understand, before I had even been born,... the place I would be born. Indubitably, it was just what my mother had felt it to be. A place of constant, futile struggle to survive. No blood was spilled on the so-called precious homeland. Only sanity, free will, and the ability to create.

We constantly comply with unending regulations and superstitions of proper daily commune and societal conduct, and even those who question the process are unable to change any of the process. Not even those responsible for maintaining the process can change the process. The web of human society found itself entangled on itself in such a way any changes would immediately be cancelled out even as they were still attempting to gain ground, and life became a waiting game of when the web would gain so much mass it would collapse on itself.

I watch as my brethren sip super mass-produced drinks complacently, then look to the sky where others sip on specialty wines only they can afford, and then over the horizon where I know, beyond numbers, there are those dying of zero food and drinking water which comes during rain seasons amongst the feces and urine which have soaked the surface of their small pieces of land they are confined to.

I have formulated countless theorems for bringing apart the psychological torture we all live, but complacence will never die in humanity. It is has entwined about everything in the areas where it has ingrained. I can do as I please, as anyone; it is quite clear the regulations and rules we have enacted do not prevent us, they simply ensure consequence, and these are all consequences I am perfectly willing to live with. The problem is however the complacent 'reactions' which are assured to my formulated responses which will make anything I do futile.

All I can hope is that one day, we all feel the futility of weeping with laughter as we enstrangle the hair upon our scalps in the grasp of our fingers and palms and curl up our limbs, tears streaming endlessly and yet we laugh with loss of control, loss of sanity; lost forever, as we have never been anything else. Only when we discard complacence and feel what is truly there, endless, needless, useless, fully detrimental exploitation, will we ever have a hope of building a true society with the one loss we need, the loss of complacence.