The freedom that once seemed unrealistic and practically unattainable is yet, still only just thoughts, hopes, wishes that may someday flutter into my grasp.  If hate were a word strong enough, for once; just this once, I would capitalize it and scream it from the rooftops of Manhattan.  It's a screw-over.  It's detonating.  Being held back, that is.  Being forced to lose your soul to the weakest, weariest, darkest and most desiccating shroud.  There's a similarity of dead men walking and this very force that is so dark.

Beyond the sea: Bobby Darin