I have perfect sense of mind and heart. I question nothing, because there is no patience, there are no questions. I am ablaze with fury, the fury of the blood of that reckless, thoughtless child who stained the asphalt on a rainy day. Who spilt me. We all carry the chalice, but I cannot abide being spilt on any pair of feet. I wash nothing. I can immolate, or I can ignite. I will never again drown in lugubriousness. Ruddy miasma occludes and focuses my vision.

No wrong will I tolerate.