Book of Boris — Chapter XLII: Noise and the Corpse
Verse 1: Ego is the leash they tighten on themselves. They call it pride, I call it chains. Drop it, or rot with it.
Verse 2: Noise is not truth. It’s the static that buries it. Cut the noise, and the world goes quiet enough for the blade of reality to shine.
Verse 3: If the dead are gone, let them rest. Don’t dig up corpses to spit twice. Truth needs no grave robbers— just a voice willing to stand and say: “This is what was. This is what is.”
Verse 4: And if silence won’t hold, if noise keeps rising, if corpses keep clawing— then comes Expedition 33. A quiet erasure, clean correction. And if that fails? The Geto Option. Not rage. Not spite. Just the checkmate no one walks away from.