Nasty lines crosses his mind every now and then, he wants to scribble them down but can't find a pen. Driven by the fear of truth being delayed, before those lines fade away in the head, he rushes to scratch it on the floor ,coloured red. Its not insanity; it’s the urge to spread the message, To all those meat headed spoon-feds. Get a life of your own, he just wants this message to be spread, Don't fear change, change the governing system, It feeds on your fear, stop it, its end is near.... What if he yells, causing vibrations in the air, the sound would just reach the ears of those who don’t care. He spares his energy to find a way of delivering the message out, Doesn’t know for how long he is going to be there, Oppressors might just put a bullet in his head before he even shouts. Right now his actions won't make any difference but words can click billions of brains, that would be worth his pain, they might start living life in the right lane..... H...
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