(no subject)
Reading some old stuff here; I used to have so much to try and say. Pretentious and horribly delightful as some of it was, at least I had desperately attempted to capture something. Lately I have nothing to say, no way to say it, and no way to find my way home. I don't feel like living, let alone writing. All I do is my best to escape thought and stress.
I'm so sick of capitalism, classes, patriarchy, materials, racism, physical beauty, perpetuating problems. I just want to live deep in the wilderness. To make some simple shelter built of natural materials and live life in a community actually geared towards LIVING LIFE and not some twisted game of cat and mouse. Drafted into the 3rd quarter of this silly anthill called capitalist society and riding the waves of this sick and deadly economy that has spun far out of it's own control is such a strain on my mental health. Thank you for listening.
I'm so sick of capitalism, classes, patriarchy, materials, racism, physical beauty, perpetuating problems. I just want to live deep in the wilderness. To make some simple shelter built of natural materials and live life in a community actually geared towards LIVING LIFE and not some twisted game of cat and mouse. Drafted into the 3rd quarter of this silly anthill called capitalist society and riding the waves of this sick and deadly economy that has spun far out of it's own control is such a strain on my mental health. Thank you for listening.