A Musing

In my heart and in my intellect, I know that a violent rebellion--however justified it may one day be--would be bad, very bad.

However, there are times when I close my eyes and think how great it would feel to stand up to the fascists and tear down the socialists.

I feel it now. It's a primal sensation: terrible and fearful but somehow wonderful all at once. It is the force of razings and poetry.

I must have drank too much coffee.