Just what it says on the label.

How can you be "the other one"? There's no "other" like you. You're "the one".

I expect it's hard to believe after the long road, chewing the dust coating your cheeks, trying to breathe through clogged nostrils.

We tend to confuse "cynical" with "adult". Maybe they're one and the same. Maybe we think we need to murder the child we once were.

Maybe we need to put him (or her) in a sacrificial altar in public view, and hack it to little pieces, disregarding the cries of: "Stop! I am you! You're doing this for others and not you!"

You'll protest and protest that the bloodied wreck you'll leave is no longer a part of you. In the market, the palms of those who did the same will touch your shoulder.

By doing that you validated them, and not you.

You'll know at night, when nobody is listening but you.

I might well be mistaken, but there's not an ounce of deception in me.

Not one.