This Again

I know this place.

Of course. You have been here many times. Countless.

But why am I here again?

You do not remember? Is that world you cared so much about already gone from your recollection?

It seems like a dream I had as a child.

You have said that before. How do you feel?

It’s not peace, exactly. It’s something else. It’s hard to describe.

Powerlessness is strange to you.

But why am I here?

It seems that once again you have fallen into the old patterns of violence and greed and fear.

Must I go back, then?



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