We don’t care. we go hand in hand with the cops in the parade… who our parents and grandparents rioted against. those cops who… you know… of course you know… they are your cops… and you don’t care…
The church that… aaah, what’s the point… you know… its your church… but you don’t care…
Most of us don’t care, some of us have even become middle class(me too)… even working at those logo changing companies… Mine doesn’t even change their logo for a fucking month…
We have all (and yes, me too) found somewhere somewhat cozy here, where we aren’t so often murdered as we would in other places, where we only sometimes get beaten, where we only sometimes shouted slurs at… where everything runs on my siblings blood (not yours maybe?).
You vote for them, don’t you? well i do… i found a way to tell myself that i vote for these bastards cause those other bastards are gonna send me to camps if they could. You probably found some other fucking way… something something tax something… something crime what ever… but we vote them in..
aah… but you just want to have a good time you say. and sometimes i do too…
I don’t know how to deal with it. i’m conflicted. i’m in pain. i put my makeup on. i pull up my skirt and fix that beautiful borrowed collar… i’m gonna go to those streets… but where is my pride?