The truth is most men are broken at birth and broken even further at childhood and that is an inevitable fact of his existence. Any glimmer of hope in his eyes masks behind it some dark and painful confusion. If he’s got some leanings for a purpose and a bit of fire in his belly he just might light an inferno onto a pathway for others to follow. If he never gets a single ember alighted what little life there is in him will turn into ashes and then his heart into dust. Home and memory are never campgrounds for his escape, instead the answer to the puzzle that puts him together ultimately lies outside of his heredity, and in fact resides deeper and darker down some roads. First he has to accept that his actions have consequences and life will give him some bitter lessons, but if he can learn to work outside of his constant limitations he will learn to outflank struggle, and even come to accept that it isn’t the blood in his veins that defines him instead it is virtue and enterprise.
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