How Does it Feel?
It feels bloody lousy. That's how.
You go outside into the mayhem - say it - MAYHEM of what is called the nearest town 8 km's away from where I live on a Monday - and it's like nails on chalk intermingled with plastic burning and car alarms blasting in your ears without let up while ALL eyes are upon you and the sun is beating down with 95 degrees of *I will burn you up in hell alive* heat and all the while the sheeple, the poor clueless, mantra-cized circa 1950 Aliyah from Morocco keep to the *program* of just how illiterate can we be because the Histradut (Keeping Us in Line Incorporated) told us to play it dumb, so we will - so we will. And anything we see that is flashy and reminds us of a TV program that programmed us last night - we will buy, and we will cackle because that is what we do and we will follow other sheeple because that is what we have been told to do and waiting in line wherever we go is our lot/mission/directive to take and in this nuts are flying, paint is drying, underpants are being hung out, eyes are lusting, smoke inhaled and jealousy reigning.
My skin is crawling and my senses are jumping and my mind is just now settling - I can't. I can't. I can't take this. It is the movie that is not mine. It is the psyche that has been taken captive. The volume too high and shrill. It is making a mockery of the human condition by the powers that be. And how dare they transform a people that was once holy and respectful and subdued into a herd of bleating animals to be sold to the highest bidder and while they wait on the auction block they are kept entertained with little plastic ducks that jump and formadehyde towels that reek and products sprayed and lies that keep on telling them that it's all for the better of the country.
I am a basket case.
Take me Home.
God - not another moment of this insanity.
You go outside into the mayhem - say it - MAYHEM of what is called the nearest town 8 km's away from where I live on a Monday - and it's like nails on chalk intermingled with plastic burning and car alarms blasting in your ears without let up while ALL eyes are upon you and the sun is beating down with 95 degrees of *I will burn you up in hell alive* heat and all the while the sheeple, the poor clueless, mantra-cized circa 1950 Aliyah from Morocco keep to the *program* of just how illiterate can we be because the Histradut (Keeping Us in Line Incorporated) told us to play it dumb, so we will - so we will. And anything we see that is flashy and reminds us of a TV program that programmed us last night - we will buy, and we will cackle because that is what we do and we will follow other sheeple because that is what we have been told to do and waiting in line wherever we go is our lot/mission/directive to take and in this nuts are flying, paint is drying, underpants are being hung out, eyes are lusting, smoke inhaled and jealousy reigning.
My skin is crawling and my senses are jumping and my mind is just now settling - I can't. I can't. I can't take this. It is the movie that is not mine. It is the psyche that has been taken captive. The volume too high and shrill. It is making a mockery of the human condition by the powers that be. And how dare they transform a people that was once holy and respectful and subdued into a herd of bleating animals to be sold to the highest bidder and while they wait on the auction block they are kept entertained with little plastic ducks that jump and formadehyde towels that reek and products sprayed and lies that keep on telling them that it's all for the better of the country.
I am a basket case.
Take me Home.
God - not another moment of this insanity.
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