Believe this as you convalesce: I`m seasick. I`m bleeding from open sores. Four days ago, you said soon we`d hit shore. And finally, we`ve found this land. For all the gifts the people give, bloody beaches and severed hands is what we return. I`m kind of nauseous. Either I don`t like this, or I`m still seasick. And I find it hard, it`s so hard, I`m finding out you`re a liar again. (no, I never said enough) You gave me what was never yours. You know what? I don`t want it.
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