I’ve been walking the street through the town, everyone knows my name. I have no name.
They want me dead. Their sercret shows on their face. I’ve been on “the list” for a while now. The “outcast” or “the outsider”.
You have become a survivor, or in their eyes “a savage”. Their is never a time I have been uncomfortable or felt more alone.
The money just keeps you busy. The money, they think keeps you alive. The game is what they play. The oblivion is what you are. If you don’t pay attention they feel they aren’t needed. You are both unwanted.
Yet you are.