Building…
An army…
A revolution…
Our way in…
Your way out…
The ocean is vast, and though it is filled with predators, we minnows outnumber the sharks a billion to one. It is to my dismay that no one has taken initiative sooner. Does no one see? Is the simplicity of our design not cracking the watershed? We must converge to take on the Upper Hand. We must seize what precious moments remain and raze the establishment, before the walls start caving in.
And so it is; that what must be done is left up to us—the incomplete. I understand what fear is. You must conquer yourself before you can conquer the world. And with a thousand pound weight on your shoulders, the fight is lost sight of; it takes a back seat to survival. You must shed that burden pound by pound, sin by sin, and remember that the only forgiveness you need is from yourself. God doesn’t care about you. Ring of Honor doesn’t care about you. Each institution molds your brain like putty, giving you “freedom” to be and to think as you wish. But the truth is not that. Listen close.
The truth is that every decision you make has already been made for you by enterprises like Ring of Honor. They dictate to you, and you turn a blind eye. Well, an era of transformation is upon you, my friend. Project 161 is here to open your eyes, clarify your vision, and reignite your intellect. We’re here to save you: One life at a time.
10 comments:
i need 1 of them hoodies
Thank you for embracing me 161, I wear the shirt with pride, I stood front row in Manhattan waiting for you but you never came.
I still believe though.
I flew a long way there because I believed and I flew back believing. Customs tried to question me about the shirt, but I knew that if they didn't know they never would.
It's coming ... I know it's coming ...
minnows don't kill sharks fool, they born minnows and they die minnows
good luck in life, LOSER
You idiots that spit on 161 will be first up against the wall when the revolution comes.
There will be no mercy shown to the bigoted, the prejudiced, the haters because why should there be. Do you understand mercy, do you have any comprehension of your place in the universe.
Like a fleck of dirt under a fingernail your insignificance is pitiful.
At least we know.
As you lemmings walk to your doom, falling one by one over the edge of the precipice, clinging to your dreams of fame, of celebrity, of money, of abercrombie and fitch designer shirts, desperately trying to claw your way back from the abyss, look up. Look up, because we will be their at your end, only we will hear your voice, only we will know your name and as the eart crumbles beneath your fingers and you fall into the fires of hell you'll fade from existence as you faded from life.
Pitiful.
Weak.
Worthless.
There is only the project.
"Do you understand mercy, do you have any comprehension of your place in the universe."
Mercy, from merces, latin for "price paid." Mercy is the price paid by the winners, the successful in life, when they must drag along the weak and invalid to a place of social acceptance. Mercy is a token gift to those who cannot or will not handle the rigors of life, a coddling hand telling them "It's okay, we still value you."
Don't despair, R.W. Scott. Society will show you mercy, you will be allowed to continue in your miserable existence, rather than being ground under the bootheel of those willing to work hard for their success. You will be spared, and taken care of should your needs reach the proportions of an emergency. A sensible man would be grateful for such a gift from society. You do not appear to be sensible, Mr. Scott.
I find it rather humorous that you would question if I know my place in life, given that the Project is the one suggesting a group of minnows could consume a shark. Surely this is a popular idea at the local minnow's dive bar, I just hope yours is far enough out of the way that you cannot hear the raucous laughter of any shark who thinks of such a thing.
I am not a meaningless speck of nothing, I am not simply astride of a grave and a difficult birth, sir, I am what I have made of myself and not what a movement has made of me. I would suggest you learn to stand on your own two feet, but I suspect at this point your legs have atrophied.
I have seen the mass of tiny maggots writhing through the desecrated body of a whale lying beached on the shore.
I've seen a bloated man, gut full from fine living and quaffing dead on his barstool, flies already buzzing around his fat carcass.
Humanity likes to feed on the weak. It thrills upon draining the life from the smaller inhabitants of our planet, laughing and taking pleasure in being the 'top of of the food chain', blissfully unaware of the irony of the slowly dying world that they live on.
Cannibals of their own habit.
The bible says 'blessed are the meek for they shall inherit the earth' but it never says how. Now we rise up.
The strong werer never the strong they were simply the loudest. You silence the buzzing in your brains by shouting over it, but that buzzing is your life as it ebbs away and you become a clone of every idiot you see on TV, every model adorning a billboard, every poser rock star poring out his rotten heart to a 'paint by numbers' melody.
But we listened.
We embraced.
and soon we will overwhelm you all.
and then like lemmings, like the sheep you are you will join the march, because the clone personality you are so proud of will be meaningless amongst the sea of real that we will drown you in.
You're going to drown everyone in a sea of real? Wouldn't water be more effective? With water you can definitely drown people.
Huh? look, I'm confused now. Please don't obfuscate me with your soliloquies.
http://i7.tinypic.com/4zxylxc.jpg
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