Dear kind man,

 I have just awoken from the slumber of secluded serenity and i am shocked at the number of people who are willing to draw a blueprint to run other people’s lives.

Your kindness is a weapon, do not let those men have it. 

The tears welling from your compassion is a potent medicine, keep it from the collectors. 

I see that your belly churns in sadness at the sight of the breadless child, however, do what you can and never outsource your passion to the mob.

There is a machinery that needs your passion to run, your tears for power and your empathy for energy. But my fear is the machine operator determines what the machine manufactures and they are never far from manufacturing death. 

Dear kind man, i see that your emotional circuit and moral wiring is charged and ready to charge but i appeal that you do not be in haste to be just or fair. The crowd can be wrong and the mob in its righteous appeal might not be on the right side of history.

I do not say be passive. I do not say be silent and watch the world burn. The world will burn, either by pleasure or by pain. I only pray you that before you change the world, first set your house in order.