Thank you for writing and sharing. I know good things can come of here whenever I look at my son. I very much hoped to make a bigger change here before leaving, as I worry for all the kids who do not yet have their own means to escape. I'm about to get madly flowery but it's all I know how especially with the feelings in your piece that I know so deeply.

The key to this barren kiln is guarded fiercely. I wish to reinforce me and mine, seek the key, disperse what chokes my homeland.

Those who fear the blaze are right to for it scorches as it excites. Understanding what we all want in this world wastes time, mistakes can kill, missteps can burn the forest to the ground. I get it's scary to give people that freedom but nobody, no kings or dictators, no legislation, no ownership of property will live forever. Authority will perish in big and little gasps all along every one of our journeys.

Who will have the mercy of experience when the fire roars again? Who will rediscover the bucket? Who will be brave enough to use it? With the power of trust, generated by that detached, truest love, you may find yourself picking up that bucket before anybody else.

Our loved ones may marvel and suffer at all the colors in this world. They may suffer unimaginably. All I'm saying is battling these demons is a hell of a lot easier if your parents let you play with a knife! If they let you read a book about it at the library! If they let you try on whatever clothes to see which ones could at last make you honestly excited for your future self! Experience, education, and excitement for the future will keep us alive. Not this, the stagnation and nostalgic obsession for a time before the colors hurt us. Not the grey.