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We killed our own people. We killed people. We killed. Killed with ignorance, which isn't bliss...it makes us murderers. And it seems we are instinctively bound to keep this horrible truth from ourselves because no single human can truly understand or bear the weight of all that guilt.
Guilt, breeds shame, breeds repression then slowly dies. I see it all as one divine being, and look it dead in the eyes.
Who are we to hear this, we who are safe, we who have fostered complacency behind miles of concrete and bulletproof glass. We try to be happy, to be here and celebrate our survival, but for what reason did we remain?
We lost fathers, we lost sons, we lost mothers, daughters, friends and peers, but, more importantly, we have lost our common soul and I have lost my faith.
We build ladders in the rising seas to outrun the cause. Big enough for one, while the ones who didn't build, drowned.
We took water to put out the blazes that burned our homes, our belongings and the lung of the earth from the ones dying of thirst.
The ground shook and split beneath us and we all scattered. Still we never came together to close the open wound.
We heard the death rattle of all living things and believed that if we refuse to hear it, it's not making a sound.
We invented the Devils below and continued to dig for the same filthy gold that melted away with everything else.
I told you that I lost my faith, but remain believing one thing. Life can be both painful and wonderful, but the only certainty is that we will die someday.
This may seem morbid, but I believe it is a privilege to await one's death honourably over a long and complex life. Instead of being killed. A killing requires a killer, and I do not only believe that everyone of us is capable of it, I do further believe that we are all guilty.
We killed our own people. We killed people. We killed with ignorance and we killed with greed and hesitation. I see it now. And therefore there is nothing left to say but: Farewell.
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