The War, and the Brave

If we start a war, we begin indifferently. Scared of course, yet fascinated with bizarre bravery; at war we are indulging in fascination of bizarre skill. I am honest, and love war. Unfortunately, I love too many things and will not focus on one, as long as an attack stands. 

To begin at indifference is the charade of souls, within, wanting to war, wanting war and really wanting the war.  The number one reason, is to achieve, improve, want to believe that our ancestors, fallen, or falling may arrive to war. Surely they do not practice greeting anymore, the dead or dying. Do any of us?

To begin the parade of souls, ouchstaent we as humanity must achieve.

Write, reveal!

In our nation, we Americans have one of the lowest esteems of what He called nocture. A writers block, simply, but now it's a black chain so we'll increase the worth of what you read, in antipathy, forbeared, or increasing tooling, like gamut app messenger quartrains readily available. One always is for sight, then right, or accuracy of nobility, other both are emvy or bewilderment if first sight was not believed. The third is for night and pertinence to forth righteousness, and the fourth untangled is of light perceived. There are reasons and ways to writing symbolical logical hand.

Agree

I've always agreed. In elementary school, junior high, even high school. With people.  Of course, I almost had a fight with in-law cousins, certainty says we two were never related. Yet, I always obeyed. When I was 16, I went to work, and could not adapt quickly because my management team was cruel and un-American; they were each Asians and had horrific gestures and facial tones. I made $3.35 an hour.

I always agree, or I feel bad. I'm not the type of woman who really wants attention or adulity from mankind. I say it like that because I don't like attention, surely because my mom brutally broke my virginity as a baby, popping about dozens of membranes while she was at it. The mental strain of her actions leave me baffled after horrific attacks of people and man happen at whims. I see her every now and then, such a cruel, stupid bitch. 

Yet, still, I agree. I agree to help, to love, to kindle kindred kindness; to my friends, for my family, to each person----not really keen on strangers. What's making it difficult is recognition, is reflecting exactly what reflections do in my home or neighborhood. When it's bad, no one will want to agree.