There is a truth in my life as I am sure is in yours; violence reigns supreme. Whether physical or esoteric, there is always some conflicting, some divergence that emerges from day to day events leading to a violent transaction, the immediate murder of a potential moment. Only one can survive.

Every idea is the spawn of a conflict, whether it has origins in material circumstances or out of the ether, and doesn’t it feel right that it is so?! Isn’t there a sense of justice, a certain imperative, a reckoning of order in the championing of a cause, of an opinion, of a distinction, of the truth that lays before you? Doesn’t it make you feel somewhat alive? Of course it does, that’s why we do it!

The rush of blood you feel every time you burn your enemies to the ground with a mighty comeback, or you conquer someone in verbal engagement, or you properly master yourself and finally ejaculate that seminal idea in a lucid and coherent form is an addiction. You feel your blood in your veins. It’s what I imagine everyone feels in some way in relation to something that they feel is worth fighting for.

I feel really sad for the person who doesn’t have this.