The Taken Cradle

Insecurity.
That’s the first shit I’ve to get rid of. Even before the old grumpy laziness. Yeah. I’m livin’ 1984 here on a daily basis. So, it’s ganna be hard as hell. Beside all cops and the government’s spies, all men but 2, all women but 3 … OK, basically beside every individual around, I’m not sure about myself, either. Pathetic, right?
Let’s rewind today, e.g.:
Didn’t dare 2 google sth I don’t dare to mention it here, either! I’m a fuckin’ pacifist for fuck’s sake. It wasnt like I was lookin’ for ‘how to bomb myself in public’ or ‘how to make the shit bomb in the first place’. No, I’m not afraid of searchin these craps. I don’t need this info either. I wanted some answer. I wanna know, explore, get sure.
But I don’t dare. Stigma of bein’ arrested with a star on my nose. Whiplash. Hangin’. Dyin’ under torture. Bein’ forced to “confess” to be a foreign rabbit. Gettin’ disappeared. Bein’ brain-washed more than already. My family bein’ dragged into all that. I’m scared. Same nightmares. Old fears. Yeah. Pathetic, I know…
I wish there was a resolution. An answer. A way to cure one of us. Me or them. This is my land, too. I’m sick of plannin’ to escape. This should be my safe home, too.

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