These... scars on this desk. They're markings,
Redefined.
And these hand prints on the wall... they're memories
Of mine.
Tiny thoughts trying to escape my brain.
But what they don't know is, they're free to go.
You see man, these thoughts of mine are like grains of sand.
They're all stuck together, but there is so much of it.
So many ideas racing through my mind.
That's the key term, my mind.
Man, no wonder they're trying to escape.
My mind is an imaginarium where belief and hope have collided with lies and insanity to make a new feeling called: Complacency.
I've reached this state of nirvana where I can kick my feet up and relax.
I can sit in my rocking chair and watch the world burn.
"Oh, what a wonderful world."
Look at all those people run.
But they're not running with their legs, they're running their mouths.
They're spewing garbage and lies about themselves to attain a higher place on a higher pedestal.
But those pedestals.... they're made of,
People.
Bodies, skulls, blood, bones.
But more importantly... they're made up of,
Ideas.
The hormone that rushes the body along.
The juice that keeps the body hydrated.
The ideas of our minds are indestructible.
They will live forever.
No wonder they're trying to escape.
Ideas were brave Kings upon a mountaintop, but those Kings are now dead.
These Kings are now beggars at the gates of Hell.
Because only the good ones go to Heaven.
The best of Saints may be the worst of sinners.
But their ideas carry weight in gold.
But if we're speaking about ideas,
What are those anyways?

The scars or the hand prints?