loneliness and all that messy stuff i never think about when diving in your muff
dining at a shitty ass diner with a shitty ass black bandana hanging around my face is the shit. as if i should be the one covering my face and not the waitress. all these fucks are gambling in here and my ice water is getting cold. im not an anarchist, im just here to rob the place. fuck their rubber bullets, i got a gat. and a vinegar doused, beer stained, crusty, obsolete, rank bandana wrapped around the part of me i worry about the most. i never want to take it off.
robbing is a pleasure. a hobby and a profession. i'm good at it. so good it makes me smile, though you could never tell through the cloth hugging my cheekbone. it was almost too easy. i would hold this place up then disappear into the protest, with their march being my getaway vehicle. i was dressed in the blackest of the bloc, ready to blend in as both a radical and a robber. both wanted men. while i act out of a selfish endeavour, we still have inherent opposition to the same police. maybe we arent so different. up at the frontlines, the teargas would give me painful cover to run in. for surely if i was arrested at the front for something as ridiculous as civil disobedience, this would only make my alibi greater against the robbery commited nearby. what robber would immidiately after the act embolden himself into a moralistic struggle against murderous wars and middle eastern occupations? it would be impossible to prove i had not been there all along, dressed in black. with my anonymous brethren...
robbing is a pleasure. a hobby and a profession. i'm good at it. so good it makes me smile, though you could never tell through the cloth hugging my cheekbone. it was almost too easy. i would hold this place up then disappear into the protest, with their march being my getaway vehicle. i was dressed in the blackest of the bloc, ready to blend in as both a radical and a robber. both wanted men. while i act out of a selfish endeavour, we still have inherent opposition to the same police. maybe we arent so different. up at the frontlines, the teargas would give me painful cover to run in. for surely if i was arrested at the front for something as ridiculous as civil disobedience, this would only make my alibi greater against the robbery commited nearby. what robber would immidiately after the act embolden himself into a moralistic struggle against murderous wars and middle eastern occupations? it would be impossible to prove i had not been there all along, dressed in black. with my anonymous brethren...