My hypocrisy sickens me. Fear, fear, fear, so encompassed by fear… Abominable, it nauseates me. I am no different. How do I, then, blame others for being the same way, for doing the same things that I do—hell, for not doing the same things that I do not do? Writing about the fifth of November… The only revolution I’ll ever be a part of is the one taking place in my head. Torchbearer of solipsism. Anything I’ve ever written about anything is a lie.