Pudgy Indian

"Writing is a ritual through which spirits find their way home."
--Rudolpho Anaya

I listen to KBOO as it snows. I listen to stories told about Mexican immigrants dying in the desert, thirsty for water, hungry for food, hungry for a better life, laying before hungry coyotes.

I want to dance, I want to feast, I want to celebrate life for these and so many others who have died because of the corporations that greedily force them and others to live and die under such horrible conditions.

I want to change everything, do my part in the Revolution to make it so my fellow human beings do not have to die or live under these conditions.

I am privileged, I am NOT free! I live and work and eat and dance and Revolt and speak out and feel helpless feel scared feel stupid feel useless feel helpful...

I want it all back, and you should, too. I will not live forever, nor do I want to.

Today is a good day to die.

To day is a good day to be alive.

It is snowing here, while people die in deserts all over the world, not because they want to, but because of the conditions imposed upon them by corporations and the governments who whore for them (meaning no disrespect to prostitutes). Those same governments claim to be of the people while they create deaths of the people like those I listen to the stories of on KBOO and SO many others.

I want to dance, to celebrate for the dead. I want to Love and Revolt for the living and those yet to come.

Everything will change. I want it to change for the better. I want it all back! Let's get it all back! Let's take it all back! REVOLUTION NOW!