I hate so much. My face shows it but my words seldom hold it. Sometimes it consumes me, though I am not beholden to it. I can act against it, though this may bring pain. I never come to a person with it, and I try to leave the same. I sometimes want it, for I hear a sweet song of relief. Mastering it is difficult, but for it I am sane. It is one of the steps towards madness, or so is my belief. Beware those who grow it, for they bring great grief.
https://ethangjohnson.com/2020/08/15/i-am-sorry/
https://ethangjohnson.com/2020/08/17/this-visage-of-mine/
https://ethangjohnson.com/2020/08/19/am-i-forgiven/
https://ethangjohnson.com/2020/08/26/death-2/
Published by ethangilesjohnson
I am a person who is slowly beginning to understand the power words have in altering the very nature of the world people exist in. I did not have skilled speech when I was growing up but I did have the ability to write and talk with my written voice. I have learned and elevated my spoken voice over time but am ever improving as I learn new ways to produce the effects upon people I desire. It is not about controlling other people that I learn but about walking the path I want to in this interconnected world.
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Short stories, poetry, writing, and art 
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