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It's a crazy world. One that I want to comprehend but will never understand. They defend injustice religiously but won't allow us to demand justice righteously. We are the victims of this systematic disaster, I call it a disaster because so many people have become enslaved to its agenda. And the pain that has fallen upon us for so long can't be healed with a plaster. This isn't Nazi Germany, you can't plan to deport us all to Madagascar. Injustice is injustice, I will fight against it, I can never condone it. Because how can I expect aid, if I was to have remained silent in someone else's time of need?
I lost my way along this world, because I don't know which path to travel. None of them are safe. Most of them will unravel dark history, the type that remains hidden under fabrication as a mystery. There's oppression to my left, and suppression of my religion to my right. And within plain sight is the bloodshed of millions, the old souls that haunt me as I look for the solution to this catastrophic world. I'm a mess, just like these words, there's no order to the non-sense that rains upon us—thus my thoughts continue to remain spontaneous. Goodnight Rayaan.