To get it out there. To air it in the world. To reach out with expression. To uncork the tradewinds. To unwrap the plain brown. To give voice to the unspoken. T’is just. T’is just indeed to uncover the corpse. To point to the rent of Cassius’ blade.
Of lighter hearts and minds, a justice has been done. (But it breaks the monotony so have at it.)
All pain comes from swelling and all meaningful learning must hurt. And so of growth what is just is made irrelevant by nature. (But it is interesting and good to have around.)
But just to utter. Just to tap. To unravel the history. To reveal the sin. To unmask the pretender and the pretense. It is just.
There is no need to apologize.
She’s dead blind though. She hates when her sword is taken to err and of petards she knows all. Every gauntlet fits and she knows which ones are for hoisting.
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