THE CRY FOR LITTLE freedom (rant) (Brown, dollar, school, carry)

[frustratedearthliing]

THE CRY FOR LITTLE freedom


I want, I want, I want to be free! Not Free, but ****ing free; with the dirt under my feet, the stars above my head, all while wrapped up in a comforting blanket of clouds. I must be the most selfish and frustrated human on the planet. Of course the cynic will say quit bitching and go live in the woods, but they do not understand the entire scope of the problem, I am in love. I love my family and they love me how could I just abandon them in such an act of betrayal. To make things worse even if I could bring myself to completely disregard them there are still others who would make it their business to drag my ass back from the woods to be a productive member of “society”. ****, why couldn't I have been born an eagle free to soar the skies, instead I was born a god damned human enslaved to some society I cannot escape. It is suffocating the life out of life. Please keep your computer, your vaccinations, and your money; I just want to live free. Why can the world not leave me alone!!!!!!!!!!!!


How sick is this system? I go to school because I love my family and it makes them happy, but it hurts me; I am selling my life for their happiness, I will forever be enslaved to this cruel society cause I owe them for this sick education. Suggest an alternate lifestyle and I will be persecuted by my fellow man and now my government has ****ing robotic aircraft with bombs. ROBOTS with ****ING BOMBS!!Want to know what they use them for? They use them to kill dissenters cause we are a threat to societies omni-potent rule. Am I paranoid? I am certain that they are listening, taking note of every letter I type, every correction I make, the song I am listening to and analyzing... Analyzing my threat level. Asking the important questions: is he worth the couple million dollar bomb and the sacrifice of a few productive members of society? The gears are turning, I can hear them, feel them, and taste them. Why couldn't my rulers be the least bit merciful and rid of my free will; I promise I will be a good servant to the system. I didn't ask for the desire to be free I was BORN this way.


I hate your rules: grammar, punctuation, spelling, and laws. Chew on some ****ing plagiarism you *******s:


America

By [URL="http://www.poetryfoundation.org/bio/tony-hoagland"]Tony Hoagland[/URL]
Then one of the students with blue hair and a tongue stud
Says that America is for him a maximum-security prison


Whose walls are made of RadioShacks and Burger Kings, and MTV episodes
Where you can’t tell the show from the commercials,


And as I consider how to express how full of **** I think he is,
He says that even when he’s driving to the mall in his Isuzu


Trooper with a gang of his friends, letting rap music pour over them
Like a boiling Jacuzzi full of ballpeen hammers, even then he feels


Buried alive, captured and suffocated in the folds
Of the thick satin quilt of America


And I wonder if this is a legitimate category of pain,
or whether he is just spin doctoring a better grade,


And then I remember that when I stabbed my father in the dream last night,
It was not blood but money


That gushed out of him, bright green hundred-dollar bills
Spilling from his wounds, and—this is the weird part—,


He gasped “Thank god—those Ben Franklins were
Clogging up my heart—


And so I perish happily,
Freed from that which kept me from my liberty”—


Which was when I knew it was a dream, since my dad
Would never speak in rhymed couplets,


And I look at the student with his acne and cell phone and phony ghetto clothes
And I think, “I am asleep in America too,


And I don’t know how to wake myself either,”
And I remember what Marx said near the end of his life:


“I was listening to the cries of the past,
When I should have been listening to the cries of the future.”


But how could he have imagined 100 channels of 24-hour cable
Or what kind of nightmare it might be


When each day you watch rivers of bright merchandise run past you
And you are floating in your pleasure boat upon this river


Even while others are drowning underneath you
And you see their faces twisting in the surface of the waters


And yet it seems to be your own hand
Which turns the volume higher?

Even as I ***** about this putrid injustice my feet continue to carry me instep to the ultimate self destruction. The answers have been in the mirror the entire time. I am genocide, I am slavery, I am war, but most importantly I AM AMERICA.

[jambo101]

I'm having a flashback to 1969..Purple Haze?

[chielgirl]

Originally Posted by jambo101

I'm having a flashback to 1969..Purple Haze?

I was thinking more of "don't take the brown acid".