I am going to write a journal entry for the first time in 2 yrs.
I haven't drawn anything real in quite some time. It is unfortunate. Over time, as we work our slave 9-5 jobs our lives sort of envelop us.
The lives that are not lives at all. I suppose at this rate we honestly could afford to only work a few days a week and really live comfortably, like many people in the world. I feel it is the cost of property that forces us to constantly work just to go on living,
as what is the land you live on but private property - constantly under or over valued,
just like our work.
I suppose the only difference is that most times our work is mostly under valued.
I feel we as people feel mostly under valued - mostly working for something big, only to watch its monetary value perpetually crushed by higher values of the market. I am only giving one example here.
Many people see no reason to trust the market, or its people. I feel a lot of this is stemmed by their indifference towards a product based society;
Constantly we are propelled to do more, and to make more...yet our currency, the stuff that we work for, the money
becomes instantly invaluable or not valuable at all
What is there to work for but to live, only unnaturally and paralyzed. Shifted into
a city uninhabitable otherwise,
I wondered, driving passed our Wall Street Protesters within Alaska...tented in downtown's corridored
hallways of uninhabitability and enhancement, and engagement, and entrancement...
As I walked the hallways of my life, constantly hollowed in excitement for the next check
feigned excitement. I wondered to myself the day where I would not worry for what I would do with myself,
as the constant path to finish a debt, or to walk a path already printed in paper- had forever scarred its face within mine
I was and am, but a mimicking puppet au naturel.
What I wonder, day to day :0 is how to make it in this cruel world, uninhabited by natural beasts - worn and torn by
unnatural living. It is but a day of "growing up," and realizing our goal is to change the world
into a perpetual living machine, gathering its resources to the pursuit of many,
yet constantly running its engines until timing out in the explosion of the sun.
I wondered to myself in the denser cold than-usual. -15 below and certain that I can make it. Certain that my insanity would rot away
Certain, that the waste of my energies were going somewhere,
other than the pockets of profiteer landowners. It isn't growing, that we have become, but slowly rotting wage machina.
I find it personally disappointing that an entire society of women live and enjoy a life of healthcare
Propped up by society's pill and cane. A dead man's landscape inherited to her for which all that sits grows more ragged
and pushed over
When you work, you have nothing to bitch about as your life becomes work- nothing matters but the beer at home and the television
Be it the game you depend on to keep the nerves calm,
or the women you watch late at night. There is no real drawing for the working man. I draw while I'm pissed on the telephone,
waiting- sitting with my life on the line metaphorically
erasing myself, unusually crossing lines across some already dead person's name whom launders a home on an old side cliff,
renting a house to a couple of no origin, to better their lives,
to further erase those childhood dreams once thought up before 4 yr sprints of dieting to meet bills,
and juggling credit cards to pay people who just take your money
But in reality you are no one, your children are nothing but high technology's slavery.
Our lives revolve around the people we serve,
and in between that fence, we hold the hands of our loved ones, with true open armed engagements happening momentarily-
opening our little lives which are too long to
love not lost, but rusted and forgotten ... multiplied fragile, uninspired, dismayed
Recommended solutions to our problems do not exist because no one is working on them
It would be working backwards to work against this force of a rolling cannonball
Somehow we believe we can support the people of this world, no matter how many jobs are non-existent
And regardless of how we multiply.
We have others who cannot stand park in front of us,
build entire freeways with lanes dedicated to people different from us, and escalators for the people who just parked in front of you.
Our hope becomes fragmented, for which our mind defragments into a beautiful moving canvas, that could have been so much more,
but is not- because we are working all the time. Our creativity is non-existent, because our employers drag every drop of blood out of you.
It is not the government that works us half to death. But the employer.
Not evil but inherently not functional towards the common person.
A common person does not want to live his life barely living. A living wage is not a living wage but a death sentence.
Living in prison is a lot better than working at Costco or Toys R Us. Or Walmart, or Kmart, or McDonalds.
Yet this class slavery is not the only one, as our middle class is slave ridden to their houses, priced not so differently than the land it is built on.
Constantly sucking the life out of one another has driven us into mass vampirism,
Ironically similar to teen vampire films and their symbolic unintentional representation of what an individual wants:
To suck the life out of any human they like, physical or not, for the benefit of themselves.
-- I have an iPhone now. I know you knew that. I take pictures a lot,
I moved back from California after 6 long months of unemployment. I have a girlfriend now,
I'm sure you know that as well. I am no longer visiting this site very often, as I go to school almost full time while working full time.
I wonder about the people on here..whether they are growing up as I did..facing the blank white walls of the tile floors they once, or still do walk on.
The little details of our lives do not matter to the unimpressed. Those who are born impressed upon others are lucky for their genes,
This is another reason why I believe that genes define who we are as a person, mostly dragging our feet into the direction of our fathers if we cannot help it, but literally defining the individual characteristics that form our identity and society's outlook in how they treat us...
Which bears on who we associate ourselves with, and our chances of survival---
Unfortunately the last part no longer mostly applies,
as we are all one melting pot of stew --of shit.
The people on here, are mostly teenagers. I find myself less likely to associate with people on here,
as 6 years ago I may have been interested- yet 6 years ago I did not spend my days away from the home,
in the working factory which is this city, or any city. And the brilliant neighborhoods away from it all, in their
compartmentalized, fabricated lives- insulating their women in money
And of course this is where the money is spent. Ironic as we pick up the new machination
But rich families hold true to Mother and Wife Christian values: Doing nothing.
I believe the daughter picks up on that, and lets her legs fly loosely in the wind, trailing hazily above the sunset in minds Eye.
Like the fireside symbolized ... remembrance of a life never lived, but calling you
Into the past where cars could not be seen nor heard,
and your life did not depend on your job, but your willing to perform work on your own time, in your own yard and place as a farmer.
How simple that would have been, and for yourself and not for others.
Ironic how selfless we have become, in our selfishness.