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Monthly Archives: April 2012

it is another Saturday with the event for which has a distinctly western slant. the west coast and its distinctions. I know it is the weather , that promotes this happy affair, based from the first of April until the beginning of November or just a little longer. the idea of a farmers market as a commercial affair not just to sell vegetables and fish , but to sell walking sticks and postcards printed off lazer printers. Clothing with store bought smells. Trendy and cool hemp from Honduras, It is to get people into the town , to listen to musicians hoping for the big time , selling cd and candy smiles. It is a beautiful affair and like any affair we can not look to deeply at the children involve, the left over or mess it creates. for a farmers market shouldn’t have corporate names, or clean signs , they should be chalk boards offing the fair that changes week to week , no that isn’t it. Every week it is the same, the same marketing, the same smiles. plastered on what looks like fine fresh faces, who know how to get your money and kick you in the head with a smile. i walk over to see the created signage, well bought expensive,colorful, all i can think of is the Boston market, on the weekend, where ever things is a mess, and people are not so kind, pressed in and no one smiles unless it is a good joke, or a an agreement about the commonness of our suffering. I don’t know what i am saying , I like where a smile is earned, and not so “plastically” presented , but i didn’t like the deep south either, i guess i want to find fault with it.all but then i can turn a sunny day into a disparaging uninformed sight of the common avoidance, Distinctly Western, like the radiated air, and the coal dusted complaints. like the ease of summer with the stretch day, that i like , for the summer is earned, and everyone smiling has been through the cold wet rain and innerly deserve this warms , dry and calming. but it doesn’t change anything , i still feel the food value go down, and the coral reefs dieing, i watch as the children consume the corn sugar, and forget to look around while they prance, for to see is now a sin, to hear of global devastation offered by our reason for capitalism and jobs which use eduction and imagination, turned into video games and what she over there did last night with whom, the small news is all news, and we cling to Facebook friends to further isolate, and further and further , into what ever offers diversion we give collectively to . a business of escape, in colors and yoga pants. in cute gifts for your girlfriend, and softer shoes which touch third world blood blisters. or is that Alabama or Tennessee that breath into those Kmart pants. for a third world has to be insured in America how else could we support capitalism, I sit in a church , no a coffee house, owned by a church , no owned by a church goer, who only highers, church people, and was created with borrowed church money , but i sit here, drinking continual coffees, and muttering into my warm and pain, suffering from normal , disjointed ly insane to think at all.
at the free market it cost three dollars for a coffee . .
the west coast and its distinctions.
I know it is the weather ,
that promotes this happy affair,
based from the first of April
until the beginging of november
or just a little longer.

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I wonder how many like me. taken from a way i knew to a way that seem created of the death. and yet not as pleasing, i look at life and see everyone going here and there to create a life. for what. the beginning and end is of slavery , the man who makes the cash will make it with your blood. the wars are for corporate concerns and no one talks of it cause that is Occupy,, that is argument without agreement. And to get up again seems pained to raise above the sheets. so hard i have worked to equal nothing. and yet , a squirrel doesn’t complain it is a squirrel. I watch so much arrogance and control of so little vestiges of disposable property, learning by borrowing learning to bow. a more graceful bow. a more subservient bow. and yet that is not enough to promise your children will be able to breath.
but me , one man , who has lost a voice inside himself, for all the confusion and absence i see. have your coffee and claim your fighting grounds but never sacrifice yourself. always stand behind someone who is dieing care they cared once upon a time. such that the spirit doesn’t even look as it walks any more.
me, sleeping in my car, knowing i am living what is really the smartest way , not giving to a system that cares little for its people , with millionaires, making calls to other millionaires , asking for funds. while i cant sleep well cause the traffic goes by while i sleep in the street. and really I am wrong. illegal transient, Lazy, spending the last of my days waiting on the last of my days. waiting on my own will to rise up in some definable strength, i am not able to find, I buy coffee and play video games, then i write for a moment, and wonder why i bother. no one reads these words , but you,, and i don’t want to infect you with the depression, and futility i feel. and even as i know i am not alone. I can only see all the sane people as living a blindness, a cause and effect of subservience if this is the “Peace” we have achieved by so many years of fighting and dieing. freedom to be treated like fodder. freedom to be sold out before we even get up. and then when we are so achieved to have life. we battle with the responsibilities, what if a squirrel wasn’t allowed to be a squirrel and always felt there was something missing. he could never touch , birth deaths, arguments, power trips, while he just wants to run off and obey the miracle of life. instead of the programing, strict linear-ness, go outside the lines at your own mistakes and sufferance, but the program is to kill you , take all your create-tions, and use them against you.