One week left and I'm off to the United States.
Funny how during these last few days that what seemed to be calm, tranquil waters had started to churn small whirlpools that dredged up mud from the lakefloor. It's disgusting, really.
I really believe there are thin lines that divide aggression and assertion, confidence and plain stupidity, determination and desperation, calculation and cowardice. One move and you're one or the other.
Tsk, tsk, tsk. It's just sad, because I think someone is crossing the line. It's sad, because things can be handled differently.
It has been said that the greatest warlord is one who comes out victorious from battle without shedding a single drop of blood. But the same can be told of one who knows when it is necessary, because a warload would also have to consider everything that is at stake.
Warlords can be likened to shepherds sometimes. They care for the needs of soldiers and sheep, they lead.
But...sometimes shepherds have to kill from their own flock to save the rest.