borders.

No, not the store, but the invisible boundaries created by the establishment that enforces its laws upon us.

"The establishment, a corporate investment.
The establishment, just one large police force."
What a great corporate message of their own they could put out.

Borders are to recognize different establishments unwillingness to sacrifice power.
sometimes borders are treated as what they are, imaginary lines-in the case of most south american countries, Iraq, Vietnam, Afghanistan. all know too well, whether from current or historical situations.

although the establishment recognizes borders, when its convenient, the corporate entity that it relies on, does not.
globalization has become rampant and the illusion that the local establishments govern these enities is slowly but surely disolving-since we are forced to consume now. through taxation, the establishment steals what we are "owed" and feeds the dying corporate monster that it relies on. whether we buy or protest, they'll get our money either way. this is our fate in a welfare state. the only way to truely escape would be to drop out of the system-or be a native american-either way would be effective from escaping this black hole.

I think about how budding socialist countries were crippled by governments around the world. how nationalization of resources and many services was never an option. it just shows how transparent even the establishment sees itself; just a sheep in wolf's clothing. the corporate strongholds will never allow the world to be owned by the people, a nation, or absent of ownership entirely. they only see one option and its to rule and own everything. a grandeur delusion-a very detrimental one, at that, to everyone.

la dispute.

I seen a man burn to death, once
He was holding up the match as his hair turned to ash.
How I valued his charisma.

When I was little, I remember seeing an old lady who would walk around with a red wagon.
She'd talk to herself all day, sitting on a bench or just strolling along the streets.
My grandmother would sit with her sometimes. I think she always cared for those with a stigma.
She had many. Still does.

Once I died while climbing down into my basement. Such a cold and dark place, heaven was.
I'm thankful my best friend dragged me out; it was too dusty for my liking.

My father was a distraught man. Always seemed in thought, but refused to say a word.
I know he loved me. with the few ways he could show.
I still have that cigar clipper.

Sometimes I dream awake.
I walk through my mind and life changes around me. I change around me.
It's weird how I'm the only person sleeping through this.

I used to run away from home just to watch my sisters and mother go look for me.
As I sat there in that bush, with my ninja turtle underwear, I knew;
I knew, even then, that they were better off without me.
And me without them.


Fin.

bikes!

I road across the texan countryside all day today. I also had a stare down with a cow as I rode by-such ferocious creatures.
time to go massage my sore gouche :c

damn.

I usually put 500 of each paycheck in my savings, this week I spent all of it... I'm slipping.
no more alcohol. no more fast food. no more fucking gas money-I have a bike, god dammit. saaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaveeeeeeeee!!!!!!! I need that money for later... either college-or trips :]

anyways, I still feel sick from thursday night. which I'm about to divulge into riiiiiiiight neeoowww.

so thursday I went with josh to his apartment for a party we were gonna have that night. we threw that GIGANTIC bottle of grey goose in the freezer and started cleaning up the mess that was his abode. it looked like nobody had lived there for weeks... which was true... so anyways, christie showed up and we had already started drinking. bad choice on my part. I remember tyson, craig & crew, jay's brothers, these black girls, and the stripper neighbor-who I wouldn't stop flirting with apparently.
after everyone got there, and I had my encounter with the stripper lady, I don't remember anything. jay said I was dancing with christie and getting down like I was a "female"; I guess he told me to stop because I was making the guys uncomfortable. I really can't stand fucking gender roles. fucking pisses me off. why can't I just be my self around others and be accepted?people are too insecure about themselves. oh well, but apparently jay beat up tyson and I passed out on josh's bed. jay carried me to his car, cos we had to leave-police were coming-so we headed to his brother sean's place. he helped me up the stairs and plopped me onto a bed. I remember smelling a shoe by my face, but I was too lazy to move it. dammit.
all I know is, when I woke up that morning I was still drunk and I had to watch some show called the 700 club (christian bullshit) til jay woke up. I think they almost converted my soggy brain in one hour. those shows are pretty convincing, I mean the dude healed this lady's fibromyalgia AND healed someone's alcoholism. through skype. fucking bad ass, right? baby jesus sure was working through his sausage-like fingers, fo'sho. ofcourse when I finally felt sober(yesterday morning) I reflected back on what I had seen and felt retarded. never again.