2024-0419
He sang “Start a fucking revolution” to the tune of “Glory Glory Hallelujah” in his car and fed it to his Instagram. He had driven up from Florida the day before and was now sitting in New York City, a place filled with congestion and people and pamphlets and fences and he could feel the conspiracy crushing him with every breath.
He had a box of pamphlets that he’d printed. The people needed to be told that they are being duped, led, controlled, and ultimately, would be abandoned. If only the people would listen, but they never seemed to listen. The people only wandered around in their own worlds, their own little minds, marching back and forth from their jobs to their homes to restaurants and high school football games like ants. Like mindless ants.
They would have to pay attention. The jury selection for the trial was underway and there were so many media cameras, he would get a perfect shot. He would light up like a beacon on their cameras. The media wasn’t good for much anyway, sending out nothing but lies and foam to keep the brains in fog, but at least today they were on a live feed, and they wouldn’t be able to pull away from the light.
He got out of the car, with his box of pamphlets and the liquid fire. He was Prometheus. The bringer of fire the bringer of light the voice crying in the wilderness, “I am come to bring you light, to awake all you who are sleeping in darkness!”
He walked to the center of the small square, threw the pamphlets in the air, and doused himself in the liquid fire and lit the spark and suddenly he was light and with light there was pain and such pain it was such exquisite pain and he screamed and in the pain of the scream there was truth, naked truth, and now at last, everyone would awake to the Truth and the Pain and the Light
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