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.

conflicting edits.

woke up at 450.
got dressed.
picked up my body armor and slung it across my shoulders.
it was warm and snug.
but heavy.

I grabbed my ACH and headed out the door.
the air was cold and bit at my cheeks. didn't mind it much though, it made me feel more alert. as I came to the stairs, they seemed to give under the extra weight on my shoulders. I carefully made my way to the base of the steps and started walking steadily towards the company-to get my M16.
I walked through the back and greeted my comrades with a colorful selection of curse words. a smile came across their tired faces as I plopped into a chair.

we drew our weapons. we grabbed our magazines.
loaded into the LMTV and headed to the range.
8 hours later, we were finished. it was fucking hot and humid as hell. the only thing I could hear out of my left ear was the ringing of 40 rounds-shoulda remembered to put in the ear plugs, dumbass. I was weary, sweaty, hungry, and dying for a drink-and still had a 20 minute drive on the back of that fucking truck.

on the way back is when we caught a glimpse. sirens.

sirens.
sirens.
maybe there was a fire.
who knows, who cares.

we arrived back at the company to find out there had been shootings near the theater.
12 dead.

holy shit.

I pondered the irony of my appearance combined with the coincidence of the current situation.
I stand there, with a semi-automatic weapon in my hands and 50 pounds of body armor on my person-many of us were-and I wasn't even capable of defending myself. I guess you're never safe.

the entire installation was locked down, air conditioning was turned off, and every door was secured from the inside. I really wanted food and a shower- the comfort of my bed and a soft voice to comfort me to sleep; instead I was sitting on the floor of the orderly room, eating girl scout cookies and wondering why people insist on using violence as a tool to solve their troubles.

why can't we be content, as a global community, with our surroundings and what happiness they can bring? why is it so hard to help each other instead of exploiting? I suppose somethings can't change under the circumstances of today. what a shame, what a shame.