Symbols of tragedy..

I mourn the victims… myself included…

Banks…Department stores… Fast food…

Reminders of my social degradation…

The people live on borrowed land they could never truly own… Can never plant your seed to take root and grow stout, to replenish generation after generation…

Mr. Roboto

Mother do you mind putting your love and energy into nourishment derived from our mother’s crust…

Too much to ask… Perhaps not even feasible…

Is there land for me and my brothers to protect… Or am I resigned to lay down my life for the special interest of others…

Lights… Camera… Action..

Am I as ugly as they say I am… Am I truly that inadequate… Image is everything… No?

Magazines…. Commercials.. Marketing… Psychological abuse… Quasi-predictive programming..

If you know me so well… Then you know what will eventually come.. When I’m fed up…

When I stray off course from this rat race…

Will I be painted as the bad guy… And punished for my curiosity…

Or will the rat eventually kill the cat… All us rats… Hungered.. Raging… Embolden with one goal… Vanquishing any and all cats…

But perhaps the rat race is more alluring than the chaos.. Certainly much less casualties…

Say cheese!

Paint a picture…. An image of freedom… Subtract the symbols… What do you have… Do you have a man.. Do you have a collection of choices… Do you see yourself? Can a system bear freedom, or is adhering to a system freedom in itself… Freedom of responsibility and worry…

The smiling clown cries…

Long live liberty….