"I say it here, it comes out there."
Perhaps you've heard of the World Economic Forum at Davos, Switzerland. It's where the alleged movers and shakers meet to collude in mutual self-delusion to set policy on such things as public masturbation, mass immolation, and shoe licking. The total tonnage of their ignorance could sink the universe. How effective it is seeking the approval of your fellow human to rot one's mind.
Dishonest words spoken in earnest fashion will not save the world - or me. Time has come for me to breathe the not-so-free air and rip off the chains of the world. My mind, my health, my sanity are on the verge of collapsing. I have to pray the streets cure me as in the past but every time my tolerance diminishes. I need rest on another planet.
On this planet I see no hope. For those of you who claim you've found freedom in chains, don't come bitching to me when they inevitably yank you and yours down the toilet. Those Davos devils will tell you why all the yanking is "necessary" as they wage violence through poverty. Alleged leftists and pseudo-liberals claim they are trying to make the system that inherently enslaves the world to be a just one. It's this delusion they are doing good that allows the conspiracy of evil to continue unabated.
Not even the richest man alive can afford to hear my screams as the rent collecting Terminator terrorizes me in nightmares. Why? Because he fears his own fate. It is the voices of the unheard who will determine our fate. Ignore them at your peril, suckers! Vote your goddam ass off. See if anything changes. Those Davos dummies are simply the end of the pipeline, like a windsock pointing the direction of a wind that's already blown.
Every day, every decision, every choice is a vote for something. Only in the Alley am I free. And yes, you fuckwads hate me for my freedom. It reminds you of what you've given up - and can't live without. It's not like I don't know the feeling too. It crushes me every time I hold down (or rather, am held down by) some crap job. Back and forth I oscillate like a yoyo, slowly succumbing to the life-ebbing friction.
Jobs are like having your head held under water. You can stay down only so long. But each time you come back up for air there's a little less of you. We the un-bribed suffer a long, drawn out death. Yet, our ranks are growing larger by the day. We the hopeless will tear down every single living institution, because, why not? Why prop up shit that only fucks you? Those who live their lives in comfort on the wage slaves below them will helplessly watch as that once blissful existence disintegrates right below their feet.
There is no doubt I live in fear. A life on the run is one of the worst forms of misery. PTSD sets in over time, jumping at every little noise. You can't remember what it's like to not hurt. My fellow inmates deal with this in all sorts of ways, from drugs to incarceration to obsequious supplication. The umbrella term is "mental illness". I've been diagnosed with multiple syndromes from my constant state of being perpetually broke, horny, and futureless - as would anyone.
The stone the builders rejected has become the cornerstone.
CODA: The magic is gone from the air, only echoes from a parallel universe. Whatever spiritual bank account I'd been drawing upon is empty now. My chance to fix that died with Emily. In odd moments I find my heart pounding, perhaps because there's no place I can rest and the mental space in which I live keeps shrinking. What's the right move to make? Is there even a move left to make? All I see are the angry hordes roaming the countryside looking for blood. Just a matter of time before no one's safe.