Poison

I’ve been administered poison all my life. It started when o was real young. Knowing now what happened them I don’t blame my parents or others. It was me looking for that poison. And I indulged it as if there’s no tomorrow.

I remember the poison well. In my teens I was addicted to television. Watching cartoons on the commercial channels. I was hooked. The advertising had me in its grip. This was also the time that I found out my dad didn’t have the budget to forkful my dreams of owning all that stuff shown on tv.

But that didn’t stop me I was ready to work for my luxury. I bought my very own pair of sneakers when I was 15 with the money from my paper route. Way later than all my classmates. They had it all. Jeans, hats, sweaters… or school equipment – they were tricked out to the max.

I learned to adapt though… seeing I was being confronted with our families poverty. Born in poverty I wasn’t going to listen to the word of the man. The man and his capitalistic agenda. Buy, buy, buy it all… you need it in your life or your nothing.

This was also the time I started to listen to alternative music. And… started to read more than I already did. Seeing I was a nerd too. Always was and always will be au contrair to how I look. I still look like a hooligan. But that’s okay.

But having an alternative lifestyle meant alternative friends. So I had some friends who were the same as all the rest… they just dressed different. But still perceived the world around them the same. Rich meant power and status. All glory to it.

So my life had poison all around it… still does to this very day. I still flee to literature to escape the right wing agenda that is embedded into this world. Where being social and respectful to others is viewed as weak. And made fun of by those rightwing people as if you’re infantile.

That’s probably why I had an escapism with religion as well. Wanting to be more than the product of this society. And those people seemed happy… but they too were poison. Saying being blessed by god is being wealthy with a good job, house, car etcetera etcetera.

Now I’m my own man… on welfare… so I’m still poor, but happy nonetheless. Having friends that accept me for who I am. A broke nobody with no future or family. But being left from the middle. Social, knowledgeable, intelligent and fair.

But I don’t want anything to do with poison anymore. It’s living its own life in a world that isn’t mine. Sometimes there are people who want to drag me in there again because they get pleasure out of that world. But than again life is empty and without meaning.

So now it’s my birthday. I spend some money on it. Food and drinks for my guests. Who’m most of them are on welfare too. Some have rich parents… so I take their words as if they were from a infant. Still on the tit of right wing society.

Maybe they bring gifts… I can always hope it’s art stuff. Or else money so I can buy art stuff… you see I need to create a visual world around me that says I’m sane. Or at least transports me out of the right wing agenda by focussing on making art.

Just to escape the poison.

Peace! I’m out!