“America is under attack”
I found me a little spot of sunshine to keep warm down by the river. The Bunk House is overlooking my violent mood swing and I’m making sure the coast is clear to smoke my herb. Today I felt like dying and taking the past with me as I go. Not yet ready for this life, I don’t think I will ever have what it takes to follow my breath to the natural end. What am I going to do? There is a means for escape I retreat to in my mind for every waking hour I have witnessed since childhood till now, but paranoia has grown increasingly worse through the years and I fear what will become of me in the unavoidable future I have yet to plan. My self-proclaimed talent is under attack and in danger of being raped of its authenticity. I have become my own worst enemy, and with the realization of this horrific betrayal, who is on my side?