an excerpt from the book i’m writing.

-when asked why she bombed a city-

Add: Choice. (This was said so simply and with such intensity it was impossible to respond) This was a matter of choice. The people of the sections all had a choice to make. See the government oppressors for who truly they are, or continue to be willingly blind to it all.

Me: So go against your government or die

Add: Not die, be made to see the truth. We are bringing the light to those in darkness. We are sacrificing the few for the many. This is what Revolution is all about, its art. You tell them of the picture you want to create, and if they don’t accept it than you do it anyways. You paint it so big, and bold they have no choice but to look at it. Only this time it is not soft and smooth as it would have been. It is corse, it is brash, it is harsh. You put it in their faces. You offend them. They will turn their heads, but when they do, it will be there in their line of sight. You make them look at it everyday until it is seen. You put it everywhere until it is so engrained in them that they picture it every second. You make it so apart of them, they no longer see it as bad. Then corse becomes fine, brash becomes timid, harsh becomes peaceful. The idea becomes accepted. It is in them now. They see it, and they want it, they need it. And you are there to give it to them.

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