A few minutes ago while pooping a large load into the tooley, which didn’t flush well, meaning my dump was evil/bad/too much, I read the latest poem.
During a late supper, which we finished tonight at 2000, I used three words: warriors, fighters, and killers. What makes the difference?
Warriors sound royal. Fighters sound like stupid commoners; while killers are crazy humanz. But in the end, all would “murder” to get what they want.
Ah, that’s a never-ending war. One group murders for honor. One group murders for pride. One group murders for faith. It’s still leads to death.
Whether the soul pays the price is superstitious because humanz kill for food and that would make no worthy prize into “heaven”.
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