10.29.16

Innumerable things in life make me angry. I don’t have time to be human anymore when I am stuck in survival mode. Survival of the fittest has taken on survival of the best sellers and ass kissers.

I fear that my ramblings this morning will not flow off the tongue in a metrical manner. As I repeatedly reference google for more florid sounding language, my stream is interrupted and inauthentic. I’m just so goddam sick of seeing so many people working like dogs to only get by in life. 6 days a week spent doing essentially pointless tasks just to feed the insatiable American hunger for new, pristine, polished, hot off the belt industrial goods. The machine is incessantly powered by greed and persuasion, exploiting the human soul and leaving nourishment of the body for the fortunate. In this country we are never stretched to satisfy our thirst for narcissism, instant gratification, and tactile goods, yet we do not extend a hand full of food towards our neighbors who are starving for justice. Aisles of shelves stacked with food are within a 5 mile vicinity of any home and yet the homeless are too, but the two never coincide. They are segregated, kept separate. Separate but equal.

The thoughts in my head lately have been exploding like cannon balls and intersecting at rapid speed. Amidst all of this combustion, some of my thoughts fly past me and are gone, never to be seen again, but when I outstretch an earnest arm towards the tumultuous exchange taking place above my head, I can snatch a portion of a good idea, only to fold it up into a torn piece of paper, to be tucked away for a rainy day. Brewing in the depths of my being is passion and I am starting to feel the heat. It’s always been my insecurities and doubts that have stopped me from walking out the door and transforming my ideas into tactile creations.

My devotion gains inertia with every news article read, every video clip watched, every exhausted acquaintance depleted of hope. For the first time in the history of our planet, humans have the astonishing ability to communicate and share knowledge on a mass scale, yet we use it to parade images of our own faces, and tout this object as the best thing we can create and put forth into the minds of others. Power only exists when it is acknowledged and I am more than ready to grab onto it, water it and care for it, and use it to feed a nation depleted of substance.

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