Reclaiming ownership on a voyage of identity presented a wonderful opportunity to challenge the insignificance of citizenship in relation to the self. My mind opposed the sovereignty of borders, as they presented an obstacle to the concept of revolution that should encompass humanity. The masses were fettered in fragmented lands, intent on preserving a notion defined as 'national heritage'.
The masses are being indoctrinated into supporting causes that power needs to defend. There is no mention of distributing thought, for abstract concepts are declared treacherous by the ruling crowd.
In the mellow twilight, i behold other pens intent on engraving ideals on paper, and the monument of revolution trembles. there is a trickle of moisture dampening its texture, and my belief that ideals transcend the world of futile dreams consolidates. There is not a single comrade who claims not to be affected by the names who made past revolutions possible, but certainty lies in a revolution that is pursued through knowledge, and with the determination that forbids political entities to become an infested, collective conscience.