Personal Reflection

Walking around tonight i found myself lost in my dreams and hopes.
Thoughts fill my head and i tend to wonder into this world where people stop taking everything they do so fucking seriously.
Of course most of this swirling mental mess of anger, anxiety, hope, and energy forms around a blur of political issues that i find relevant.
Often times these walks help me vent my frustrations. Very little provacitive theory comes out, just pure anger in the way the world works.
My discontent wears on me like the years i've lived. In my petty uniform, seeing others in theirs.I always wonder how we ended up here?
Billions of possibilities and this is what we got.
Dispalcement, diagnosis, restriction, pain, and exploitation.
The only positives seem to come in resistance to these.
Maybe i'm just a cynic.
Maybe somewhere in that blur of persoanl expression and pain...and hope there stands a person truly undefiled by restrictions of a police-state and its market oppression.
I stand on the streets of this pathetic monument to "progress" knowing that more pain will ensue all in the name of more.
More produtcs, more hours of labor, less pay, more crying children, and the duplication of my hungry mother over her young son.
A son that for many years will not realize that all those things were designed by a system that destroys the will and fire in humanity.
Trading it for a cold stone of mechanical duplication that we so boldly call work.
Work for another.
Work you can not claim.
A work that will drive you to your grave, worry being the pads of your expensive coffin.
No freedom for the poor.
Only hours of worry and hope... hope for something.
A light
A break
Just for something to go rightWanting little more then sustainance
And i'm forced to hear these "every-four year" "fair weather" politics.
These faceless, weak liberals that throw around peace signs, and hope as if it's only possible every four fucking years.
Where were you 3 years ago when a city's poor drown?
Where were you when I needed a hand in describing life as the working poor?
Somewhere tucked away from reality in a middle class nich.
So now you have your election.
And then you'll be gone again.
Leaving the true alone...Fixing your meals
Fighting capitalist fascism
being left on the streets, replaced by nano-second self scan stationsWalking miles just to be exploited and raped by the lords of this land.
this is my life
these are real lives