A Time to Breathe and Howl | Teen Ink

A Time to Breathe and Howl

February 16, 2011
By anegrete BRONZE, Lenexa, Kansas
anegrete BRONZE, Lenexa, Kansas
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
"We are all alone, born alone, die alone, and -- in spite of True Romance magazines -- we shall all someday look back on our lives and see that, in spite of our company, we were alone the whole way. I do not say lonely -- at least, not all the time -- but essentially, and finally, alone. This is what makes your self-respect so important, and I don't see how you can respect yourself if you must look in the hearts and minds of others for your happiness."
— Hunter S. Thompson


Power should move from the bottom up,
instead,
people are told what to dislike,
who to hate, what they should think,
and someone minimizes
any useful form
of debate.

The results are taxes,
education and immigration and evolution and government spending and all,
over discussed and exhausted
to distract us,
the public,
from arguing about matters the government doesn’t really feel they want to address.

Politicians are bureaucrats,
serving billion-trillion-reigning-dollar corporations.

Boss Tweed was made to be the enemy but he is still here just in a much nicer suit,
basking in (working-three-jobs-for-my-my-kids) money, and
coveted
corporate
glory.




We slave in cubicles,
every day,
processing,
the same results,
the same numbers,
over,
and over again,
doing nothing about it :
losing virtually all the dreams and (sitting-in-school-looking-out-the-window)hopes we were captured by as children.

You are taught to believe
you can be
anything you want
when you are young,
and naive
a psychiatrists, writer, biologist, a doctor, pediatrician, astronaut,
astounded,
when reality gives mercy to few:
a miniscule percentage of those(speak-when-I-speak-to-you) individuals.

More likely, you will become a gear,
in a well oiled machine
that takes away your right and your dignity and your much-coveted, hard-earned, Free Will .
Lose them,
exploited by the billion-trillion-reigning-
dollar corporations
that bribe and fund our politicians...

into creating policies...


...to follow:the AMERICAN WAY:
a dream shoved in a factory line,
and disposed systematically,
in an INDUSTRIAL BOOM,
Forming a cycle,
stealing more and more and more validity from moral principle where,
Representative Democracy is a lie,
gift wrapped in patriotism,
Instead of choosing:
we are told of two options:
one of which must be given,
undivided support,
dividing power,
into Republican and Democrat,
good and evil,
hippies and commies,
fascists,
lawyers,
sexists:
even choosing within the margins drawn by those in power:
We still are not REPRESENTED.

When a MAN
cannot CHOOSE
he is not a man.
and we do not choose.
Rather:
each makes poorly informed opinions,
on which is the lesser of two evils,
Likely though:
It may still not be taken into account,
when your representative votes against the candidate, statistics indicate, fifty eight percent of the population...


kind of liked.

Meanwhile: this country ceases to function as a home for human beings, instead becoming a convenience store, fully stocked with the newest models of security cameras:
a retail industry,
formed not for consumers to spend money and buy what they want;
but for men as heads of corporations buying consumers:
fresh from the classroom-years-behind-bars, repetitive daily lesson plans
and overpriced, over-stocked, top-of-the-line-higher-education where every man gets,
a price tag,


to dangle from their neck,


like a noose,


and displayed to be sold to the highest bidder:
A branding of cattle ready to buy,
And the price tag’s replaced with a tie,
uniform,
powder and royal blue lined.
Individualism ceased to exist as each fleshly picked power-washed, dot-com brain is placed in a cubicle, repeating work until exhausted.

Or at least until they get carpal-tunnel.


Mr. Cow then retreats home defeated,
surrounded by interior design that that combines for delight,
to watch hours of television, or movies, or novels and books catching dust that remind him,
of what he wanted,
but was not good enough to accomplish,
happy.
Flipping from channel to channel, station to station, Mr. Cow can’t decide.


Does priority to keep order,
and avoid revolution,
leave good intentions supported by Americans rendered, downright, virtually, altogether, and
exclusively on sale?



Where is our Napoleon?
Where is our Gandhi? He’s in an office,
on the phone with a man in a suit, with a loosened tie, diagnosed with Attention-obsessive-deficit-aggressive-bipolar-psychotic-eating disorder.

severe depression, insomnia, anxiety, alcohol and cigarette self-medication replaced with selective-serotonin-amphetamine-reuptake norepinephrine -inhibitor-stimulant treatments, ,
tetra- and tricyclic antidepressants.
Paxil. Xoloft. Adderall. Vyvanse. Cymbalta. Xanax. Klonopin.
Everyone likely knows,
or is,
or will be

one of those kids


who can’t locate Spain, but can dictate psychiatric medications,
and their side effects
cataloged by disorder.
Psychology has helped improve the lives of thousands,
in principle’s a valuable branch of medicine,
Five hundred thousand kids in eighty-five,
Now, six million.

May cause dizziness.

“Ask your doctor if placebos are right for you.”

Is this the freedom our forefathers wanted for us?
Did signatures Declaring Independence represent a contract
we must now sign
to a manager wearing
a tie and a nametag?
Are we content stuffed in identical homes, breeding tiny copies
of billions of clones whose lives we know won’t be valued?

We encourage each tiny me to sacrifice time at work, and vote,
in blind belief
that someday.

Someday,

when they are old enough to buy cigarettes, wear a tie, and watch rated-R films
they might be able to understand why the political giant has won,
again.
Creating more and more
suspicious
relationships
with foreign countries.
Who will explain why they are to suffer
for The Man’s priorities?
for natural resources
as the Petroleum Industry
retires to their charming modern design vacation home,

in Guantanamo Cuba.


And I, as domesticated dog in a capitalist political structure...

I ask,
“Who is with me?
Who will be an insurgent hound?” as I gnaw though my green-friendly
leashes and stop just one moment to breathe.
Then howl.


The author's comments:
I want people to hate it or love it, I don't mind much as long as they just think something. I'd be great if they did something about the "something" they think.

JOIN THE DISCUSSION

This article has 0 comments.