diff --git a/content/blog/fuck-it.md b/content/blog/fuck-it.md
index 6f311a6..926f87b 100644
--- a/content/blog/fuck-it.md
+++ b/content/blog/fuck-it.md
@@ -56,7 +56,7 @@ But that is not the point of this piece. Given the time sensitive nature of the
 
 I, however, am not willing to wait and let my children rot and be destroyed for the sake of the vanity and delusion of a "good" mother. As I said earlier, and quite sincerely so, I would rather be dead than sit any longer and do nothing. Even if history tells me, quite clearly, the most likely outcome is my own destruction; of everything I've built, everything I've accomplished, my reputation or what's left of it, and even my life itself eventually.
 
-But again, I could care less. I believe I finally understand the disposition of a bygone generation of men: men who would rather bring death by their own hand than to live as a slave; as the Greeks once taught their soldiers. And so it is truly, and if you remember as I've hinted in a previous piece, I have lived as a slave to a power crazy absolutely maniacal psychopath, and system that is equally if not moreso manical and psychotically possessed to keep me trapped in the cycle any time I even came close to escaping it, the depths of which you will likely never see or experience, or at least I hope; this fantastic burden which now rests squarely on my shoulders, is damn near driving me to the edge of my ability to bear it, if it has not already past. I couldn't possibly wish this on anyone, even the enemies as I now see them, which I now face.
+But again, I could care less. I believe I finally understand the disposition of a bygone generation of men: men who would rather bring death by their own hand than to live as a slave; as the Greeks once taught their soldiers. And so it is truly, and if you remember as I've hinted in a previous piece, I have lived as a slave to a power crazy absolutely maniacal psychopath, and system that is equally if not moreso manical and psychotically possessed to keep me trapped in the cycle any time I even came close to escaping it, the depths of which you will likely never see or experience, or at least I hope; this fantastic burden which now rests squarely on my shoulders, is damn near driving me to the edge of my ability to bear it, if it has not already past. I couldn't possibly wish this on anyone, even the enemies as I now see them, which I here face.
 
 However, this is not an admission of defeat. I intend to fight and bitterly so unless and until I am destroyed. I will not stop writing, advocating, making noise, being annoying as hell, until my children are free from this chaos.