I sorely want to be in a secluded place where no one knows my name or identity. I’m a stranger, roaming through the blasted back streets, amongst the hard-working poor people, with nothing to offer except open honest, wide smiles, or even an occasional wave of the bone-skinny hands.
I grow tired of the rat race amidst the greedy corporations and those that seek an enjoyment at other people’s agony. I am sick of the ignorance generated by those seeking greed, power and abundance. I grow ill of their fake smiles, dishonesty and lies. I grow weary of their apathy.
At least within the terrible buffet of poverty, I see poor folks offering what’s left of their last week’s meal to a tired traveller, or making every effort to make you comfortable in their rat-infested small homes.
Nowadays, we see a class-war, between the extreme fucking filthy rich, and those living in terrible slums or plantations, in complete poverty. And misery.
The rich are merely keen to maintain the harsh balance of power. Not the power of governance but more to the power of class. The elites. The bourgeois. The poor. The helpless. The untouchables.
Corporations often talk about community-building, and social responsibility. Their conditional support for aid, merely trapped in the vicious cycle.
A choice is what can turn the tide of this unholy class war. A choice to be compassionate or cruel. Embrace one, the other will surely lead you to your doom.
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