Forbidden things
Like finishing up a class, coming here instead of going back to lab.
Things have gotten much better in Dallas since I've gotten a car. And I find myself seeking out the company of those far outside my school.
Alienating myself? Maybe. I think its more- refusing to ingratiate. How about that.
30-something year old stoners. Punk rock kiddos. I don't know. Anything. Anybody. Who is different. Who really sees this society as something that needs to be ripped down and rebuilt, fucking yesterday.
Are any of my fellow students really thinking about this? At all?
I am driven primarily by my own selfish curiosity. I am fascinated with what can happen in the brain to make people act the way they act on addictive drugs, etc, but it has nothing to do with fighting addiction, really. Capitalism is what's fueling addiction- not brains.
Other people, people with minds, brains, real people, are cleaning the toilet seats I've sat on.
My colleagues see this and everybody accepts it. Like, we have janitors and thats the way it is.
What the FUCK, people? Why do my classmates just think this is all OK?
The days pass, I feel myself growing older with them. My 24th birthday approaches.
Things get discovered. Built. Cleaned. Under the surface is Question. It can be accessed in those who have chosen/been given the more working-class path. It cannot be reached within the strata that myself and my colleagues have been given/chosen.
I feel like the one cancerous cell, reaching down into the basement membrane. Stratification is wrong. I am not better than my own shit and niether is anyone else. Racism is wrong. Why do black people end up preparing every meal I eat at school? Sexism is wrong. I duck my head at curfew-sunset- checking my backseat as a matter of habit. There are rape prevention classes. Why are the women taking them?
Back to lab now. My love of science. But I am not blind to where I live. I voice my observations into the void. Outside the glass sculptures, people live.
Outside the glass sculptures,
are the hands willing to shatter.
Kalisa
Things have gotten much better in Dallas since I've gotten a car. And I find myself seeking out the company of those far outside my school.
Alienating myself? Maybe. I think its more- refusing to ingratiate. How about that.
30-something year old stoners. Punk rock kiddos. I don't know. Anything. Anybody. Who is different. Who really sees this society as something that needs to be ripped down and rebuilt, fucking yesterday.
Are any of my fellow students really thinking about this? At all?
I am driven primarily by my own selfish curiosity. I am fascinated with what can happen in the brain to make people act the way they act on addictive drugs, etc, but it has nothing to do with fighting addiction, really. Capitalism is what's fueling addiction- not brains.
Other people, people with minds, brains, real people, are cleaning the toilet seats I've sat on.
My colleagues see this and everybody accepts it. Like, we have janitors and thats the way it is.
What the FUCK, people? Why do my classmates just think this is all OK?
The days pass, I feel myself growing older with them. My 24th birthday approaches.
Things get discovered. Built. Cleaned. Under the surface is Question. It can be accessed in those who have chosen/been given the more working-class path. It cannot be reached within the strata that myself and my colleagues have been given/chosen.
I feel like the one cancerous cell, reaching down into the basement membrane. Stratification is wrong. I am not better than my own shit and niether is anyone else. Racism is wrong. Why do black people end up preparing every meal I eat at school? Sexism is wrong. I duck my head at curfew-sunset- checking my backseat as a matter of habit. There are rape prevention classes. Why are the women taking them?
Back to lab now. My love of science. But I am not blind to where I live. I voice my observations into the void. Outside the glass sculptures, people live.
Outside the glass sculptures,
are the hands willing to shatter.
Kalisa