It has come to my attention that each man's life is his own and no one else's. I can scold you for your foolish choices but ultimately it means nothing. I must devise a way, then, to become your owner, master, whatever word that signifies I am in control of you I must become. And I don't want you to worry. I won't concern myself with the menial things. Your breakfast and clothes and nearly everything will still be yours to decide. But I will be there to make sure you are not lonely, or stupid, or feckless, or weak. When you are not angry I will be angry for you, and when you cry I'll cry as well. And when you want to throw your life away I will be there holding your hand back, clasping, squeezing, demanding that you put it down. And I only hope that I am strong enough to convince you.
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