Good bye, proud world! I'm going home; Thou art not my friend; I am not thine.

Count me not your friend but the enemy of your enemies.

But O the heavy change, now thou art gone,
Now thou art gone and never must return!

I am not my own friend.
Time cuts me in two.

Sir, I am not in your land, but in my own.

I am exiting the wider world, to return to my homeland of bullying, psychosis, and bad taste. Forgive me. It is a medical matter.

And so I leave this world, where the heart must either break or turn to lead. [last words]

2592. I can't be your Friend, and your Flatterer too.

It was not a triumphal return. Home, as I had known it, was gone.

There was only myself
and the world,
and it was I

who was leaving.

Pero yo ya no soy yo,
ni mi casa es ya mi casa.

ORESTES: Never shall I see you again.

ELECTRA: Nor I see myself in your eyes.

ORESTES: This, the last time I'll talk with you ever.

ELECTRA: O my homeland, goodbye. Goodbye to you, women of home.

ORESTES: Most loyal of sisters, do you leave now?

ELECTRA: I leave with tears blurring all that I see.

I had grown accustomed to my station here.
Enduring it as if lost in a dream.
But today, my eyes have been opened.
Today, I awake.
Too long have I suffered adversity.
Pain from the actions of those entrusted with protecting me.
Forging on, my past shall not define me, even as I stand afeard a resurgence of my true vulnerabilities.
The time has come at last to abandon this isle.
To depart, never to return.
Fare thee well, O home.
Wait for my return no longer.
Onward I must proceed with strength in each footfall
Evermore haunted with the memories of the man I used to be.
For my old home is now behind me.
Faith is my new home.

"8.
"For who would trust the seeming sighs
Of wife or paramour?
Fresh feres will dry the bright blue eyes
We late saw streaming o'er.
For pleasures past I do not grieve,
Nor perils gathering near;
My greatest grief is that I leave
No thing that claims a tear.

9.
"And now I'm in the world alone,
Upon the wide, wide sea:
But why should I for others groan,
When none will sigh for me?
Perchance my dog will whine in vain,
Till fed by stranger hands;
But long ere I come back again,
He'd tear me where he stands.

10.
"With thee, my bark, I'll swiftly go
Athwart the foaming brine;
Nor care what land thou bear'st me to,
So not again to mine.
Welcome, welcome, ye dark blue waves!
And when you fail my sight,
Welcome, ye deserts, and ye caves!
My native Land — Good Night!