Choices and voices and voices and choices
and what does one do when the noise is divisive?
The head of your city, your house, or your clan,
the Gods that you worship, the follies of man...
Where do you stand when the hand that you're dealt gives you choices you don't want to make about what you don't know? If you go, will it be a mistake?
Or if you take that chance, make a stance, then what?
You leave when you're not even sure there's a reason? Believe in the hope that there's elsewhere to go as you wander and ponder the meaning of treason?
And STILL you don't know what happened or why and you try to make sense of it while on the fence of it...
When all is said and all is done, everyone has biases, that much you see.
But still there sits this sickly feeling; it pulls as you mull over what has been done and you think it's okay, but that nook in your mind whispers, "No, no it's not."
To sever relations, to give up your stations?
Or hope that you're wrong and just carry on?
Or to try to make change from within when you know that you can't really do much right now, but somehow and sometime you could maybe just possibly win?
Though you're not much a leader and don't even want to be one to begin with.
And really, deep down, you can't trust either side because THEY ALL SLAUGHTER YOUR FAMILY EVERYDAY ANYWAYS.
But you can't spell slaughter without laughter,
and that's what you're supposed to create.
That's your purpose.
That's your role.
That's your class.
Isn't it?

Penned by my hand on the 17th of Valnuary, in the year 822 AF.