Desperate Cry for Help 016

Then of course, I grew up. The society which was content to manipulate and control where I was every second of everyday, now expected me to have the skills and knowledge to make it on my own.

They somehow thought teaching me about the English civil war, geometry, and Amazonian tribes-people, would prepare me for having a bank account and managing my finances.

So Children, I did the responsible, sane, typical thing you do in these situations when the institutions leave you to rot - I sat around in my small apartment, sipping Kool-Aid, eating Ramen, and playing my Atari 2600 on a small black and white TV.

Those were good days.

I would wander through the streets and bum change off more successful people, I would flirt with minor crimes and anti-social behaviors.

It was the golden age of freedom.

Then, of course, came the women who didn't want to just love me for 15 minutes behind the Circle K. Then came the women who wanted to stick around, who wanted me to change my lifestyle, who wanted me to buy a couch.

So, on the plus side, I got a color TV and an old Nintendo from a garage sale - but on the down side, I had a regular job and was actually becoming a productive member in this society.

A cog in a machine

A tiny wheel, surrounded by other tiny wheels, hoping the big wheels didn't notice us.

So kids - there was just one thing left to do,

I was going to have to choose - do I buy a Mercedes, or drop out, do lots of drugs, loose my girlfriend, and watch as life went down the shit-hole...