In the end we just smile at random pictures on the internet
THE CHILDREN THAT MAKE OUR SHOES
WALK BAREFOOT
Have you ever thought about how the children that make
our shoes somewhere in india walk barefoot?Little kids spent over 12 hours a day in dirty streets or poisened factories,so that we can feel a little bit prettier.
Illegal child labour happens right in front of our eyes, wherefore do I need you to look deeper in mine instead of noticing the really important things going on?
Have you ever imagined how sick the cows are before they die and get eaten?
If I just take a quick look behind the curtains of the meat industry,
I couldn’t eat as much as I want to throw up, whenever I see bacon again.
Animals get treated so badly, how dare I to complain about how you never loved me enough, when some creatures never get any affection at all?
There are male human beings, that think they own the right to decide what’s right and wrong for the soul and reproduction system of women all over the world.
Feminism still isn’t the same as common sense, but it should be,
why do I even bother craving your attention and admiration, if a whole gender can’t even get their well-deserved respect?
young children die at work, animals suffer so we can enjoy a burger and men oppress fellow human beings, just because they were born a certain way – all those things are reasons to be sad,
but I- from all those reasons - i chose to lay depressed in bed,
because you broke my heart.
THOUGHTS FLOATING INTO THE NIGHT SKY
In therapy you try to lift the duvet of your past to uncover the hidden secrets of your childhood, how your mother might never loved you and how your father loved you too much, how she never hugged you and he touched you too much, how she left and didn’t seem to care and how he came closer and cared even less.
In bed, whenever i layed awake, which is always, I didn’t dare to leave the hot, dark uterus that was the space under my blanket , I almost couldn’t breathe, but I rather suffocated in my safe place than get crushed by the open space.
I can see the dance of obligation, fault and guilt in the shadows on my ceiling, I can’t look away but they don’t bother to notice me and aspiration, we’re watching them silently while incitement and incitation are still sleeping.
In bed, whenever i layed awake, which is always, I didn’t dare to leave the hot, dark uterus that was the space under my blanket , I almost couldn’t breathe, but I rather suffocated in my safe place than get crushed by the open space.
I can see the dance of obligation, fault and guilt in the shadows on my ceiling, I can’t look away but they don’t bother to notice me and aspiration, we’re watching them silently while incitement and incitation are still sleeping.
In the night sky,starring at the firmament and at the ticking clock, 1.30, looking for answers in the stars, I couldn’t find anything but light dots on a dark surface, dead stars on a giant graveyard, over-romantisized pieces of dirt on a black canvas.
We tell the waiting people that ‘no answer is an answer aswell’, but let’s be honest, no answer is just a never ending vacuum of false interpretation, anxious boredom and dying hope.
We tell the waiting people that ‘no answer is an answer aswell’, but let’s be honest, no answer is just a never ending vacuum of false interpretation, anxious boredom and dying hope.
In the real world, we cover up our wounds and close the curtains behind our eyes, never see, never feel, never be more than a working system, lay down with lovers and get up as strangers, keep all the problems under the duvet and don’t you dare to stay there with them.
In the end we’re all leaking wrecks, sinking ships that barely left the haven and drowning, while we smile at random pictures on the internet.
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