Poverty is real, much like death is. It surrounds the brain tissue, a life-threatening idea, full of risk and sharp broken glass. Poverty kills the sweetest of aromas or feelings. We see poverty as a lower grade, much less efficient, much more archaic. The invisible drawstring of our money pouches, sprawling and sprucing at every chance we can dive in to buy more to get thin.
Poverty, my friend, is in now. For beautiful women across the globe try to look as thin and famished as possible. The pursuit of that perfect, oh lets say hourglass-shape, the wants and needs of the media to grasp something innocent, over-expose its skin to the burning light, turn it rotten, and release it back like a virus plaguing the streets, the hairs flowing with the dust of the air. Rid us of our fat USA, it is in to be thin!
Wrinkle-free and fat-free, 100% all natural-organic-life-feeding-tiny-organisms fiending aimlessly at my fat wallet. All we ever do here is think about our wallets. Like a looming movie ending you never wanted to hear about. The result so eminent, you cannot escape its mysterious musk. We lunge at entertainment and bask ourselves in delightful visuals and images and feelings of the illusion of happiness.
Stop lunging towards the Television and give your unsedated and unbiased life a chance. Experience real happiness, real things. Don’t fall into the trap of fake idols.
Wake up dear the flowers look luscious, and death is still zooming far away.
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-RFV
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3 comments:
are you starting a revolution?
Real things, like what.
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