terra casimir {d3} cbd2

Fine, I'll tell you why my hands are always in my pockets.

It's because I like to leave the house with three things and three things only, and I like to check they are always there. It's a security thing, you know, makes me feel safe.

There's a drawing of home. It's from when I was younger, so yeah, it's pretty bad. But it reminds me about how good home was, and how good it could be again. I drew flowers in our yard because at the time, there were loads. I'd stay up late reading about them all but now there's only dirt.

So, the second is a packet of grass seed. I sow what I can. Because of how the ground turns brown and doesn't grow back. Sometimes it even has a grey tinge, because it's dying, and yeah, it's because people have lived too much, too hard—we're always so caught on how it is the people who pay the price, but nah, I don't see people as the victims. People are the problem.

Men in suits are the worst culprits. Mom says they're banging up girls and stressing everything out. Money talks, the planet doesn't—it whispers, and if you're quiet enough, you can hear it. People at the top try to drown it out. Then there's people who burn for the sake of burning, as if fire is a beautiful thing. And so, the third thing is a white powder. I find them, give them their pleasure then cut it with pain. Their confidence becomes trust and trust is easy to break.

They all need an escape. I give it to them.

Yeah, my hands are always in my pockets and yeah, it looks weird. But I'm just always checking that everything is there so that we can still see the sunrise through the shit.

Peacekeepers don't need to know about how I make peace.

They call it crime, I call it a hustle.

Someone has to do it. The world is at stake.






...Are you happy? You can stop asking that question now. Take note on my answer instead. You'll join the fight one day.