old

magazines sell us repulsive plastic images of what we could be, something to strive for. how much psychology do they use in convincing us that we aren't good enough i wonder? playing to our insecurities, there are so many things in this perverse system that mean so little in such a huge way, so broken and convincing and overpowering.
i don't understand how i live, what my part is in this mess, i wish to retire, to let go of all the ropes i hold and freefall nude, colourful, & uninhibited, a spectacle for all the groundwellers, a firework, a provocative picture of what could be.
FEAR keeps us in line, fear of what we could be, fear of what were not, fear of where we could be going and the control that we don't have, it is so stifling, crushing. everything back in it's box. i am so controlled, practically a robot. iwant to be colourful and free and not afraid.