An Honorable Manifesto

I am a man.

A man who is not only a man.

I am a man of vision.

A man of honor.

A man of conscience.

And if anyone can write a manifesto, it’s a schizophrenic.

I found honor when I was without home, without medication, in a library I wandered into. I had dreamt of it, and therefore sought it out. Once I had defined it, I knew I would never go back.

Despite my madness, I still have my conscience. Though it seems that madness and conscience are, at times, bitter enemies.

My madness gives rise to obsession and deviances.

My conscience gives rise to modesty and moderation.

But there is a place madness cannot find me, and that is within the walls of honor.

Honor is what even my conscience strives for. It is the motive behind my ever seeking mind.

At every turn, I hope to find honor in my actions. Honor, flowing from my mouth. Honor, in the water I bathe in. Honor, in the skin that I touch…

Have I found such honor?

No. It evades me.

As I suffer in the throes of addiction,

As I bathe in romantic dissatisfaction,

As I touch, with selfish hands, only the skin of drums, and still no other…

But I will conquer them.

As I have conquered every environment I have survived.

But like Alexander the Great I have set up satrapies among the conquered ground, and I live between home and the next conquest!

I am not a man that will stop.

I am not a man that has had enough!

I am not a man without his vanities.

But no vanity will keep me from true honor.

Shall valor come to my aid?

Shall courage answer my prayers?

Or shall madness finally cloud my vision once and for all,

Leaving me dead from these attempts…?

One thing is for sure:

One path,

One way,

One calling.

I will live for honor.

I will fight for honor!

I will die for Honor!

And I shall live

A life I can honor

A life of conscience.

A life my own.

-fin-