S.W: Trying to break the shackles of this crippling nation. The many complications in this situation. An Obsolete destination.
T.R: Accept the fact, this system forced onto you. You’re not fucking broken, you’re not the enemy. Fed addiction, blessed with shame. Smash this nail into my coffin. Thrust into a system that wasn’t chosen, instead inflicted like a disease. Don’t mistake the destruction of your tradition with romanticism. Please understand, we’re enemies.