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Quinoa Blessed
2017

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2010-12-01

More free


It doesn't matter anymore. I am not anyone that I thought I was. I'm just not. Although I know I'm better than they are. I know I'm more free.

We both walk the same streets, yes, but their feet are bound by shoes that damage their body and cause them pain. My feet are free and the skin underneath has hardened and serves me well. I wear the wounds on my feet with pride because they are the result of my freedom and I know they will heal. I don't need to spend money on shoes that do nothing but damage and bind me.

In fact I don't need to spend money on anything. Unlike these poor trapped souls, trapped in the concepts of their minds, I am free from the idiotic ideology of Capitalism. Yes, I walk the same streets and carry the same green shopping bag, but I do not pay for my food. Only the ignorant and the trapped pay for their food when every day every supermarket in the country throws away masses of perfectly good food. All I need is access to their dumpsters. And failing this I merely go into the store, place the items in my bag and walk out. Why pay this corporation to bind my brothers and sisters into corporate slavery and food addiction?

Of course I am not addicted to bread and meat like they are. I am a vegetarian and I am not under the illusion that wheat is a viable option for a healthy body and mind. I am more free than them. Instead of paying for cheap industrial wheat bread I enjoy expensive spelt bread for free. I am more smart than them, I know that spelt is an ancient form of wheat that hasn't been industrialised over the years to make it indigestible to the human body. It is also organic and wholegrain. How they feed themselves on this barely edible food-like item called wheat I do not know. They are addicted and despite eating and searching for my organic whole spelt bread compulsively, I am not addicted like them. I can stop anytime I like.

I don't have a car like they do. I don't pollute the planet. I don't support oil companies raping Iraq. I don't send my brothers and sisters hurtling through windscreens so I can arrive a minute earlier than necessary. I'm better than them. I will never own a car. I hitchhike instead. I am more free than they are because I don't believe the propaganda saying that hitchhiking is dangerous and you will be murdered if you participate in it. This is obviously not true and only the ignorant and the slaves to television believe it. I can go anywhere I like because I am free.

I can sleep in the park because I have a tent in my bag. I don't need money to pay for accommodation. I can sleep in a cave on the beach if it rains. I can stay up as late as I want eating huge mouthfuls of expensive food that the most hard-working wage-slaves can't even afford. They can't afford it because a refrigerator on hire purchase is a priority over the food that sustains their body. They can't afford it because they choose to not be free, like me.

Sometimes I sit under my temporary shelter with my warm cheap sleeping bag looking at their cars driving past and I pity them and their ignorance. They don't even know they're not free. They can't bear the silence; I'm guessing they all have their radios on inside those expensive air-conditioned cars. They're listening to that music that they're supposed to like and eventually decide they do like, just because they listen to it so often they may as well like it. They're pretending to not pay attention to the advertising but of course they can't help it.

I can't stop thinking about these people and how much more free I am than they are. It is fair? Why am I so free and they are so not? What catalyst broke me awake from this over-fed indigestible sleep of an entire childhood of religious capitalistic authoritarian weakening education? I want to burn the schools that enslave my brothers and sisters but I can't be bothered. I ate too much avocado and rye bread. If I could bomb every school in the world maybe there would be another person sitting here beside me in this park in the rain in the night looking at cars and silently judging them. This moral superiority doesn't feel as good as it used to. I know I need to read some more books and expand my mind further and find other ways of judging people. I am bound in my own world of limits and I carry on my back everything I own and it is only a single kilogram too heavy.

If only I was free enough to throw away that extra kilogram. If only I was free enough to know exactly which items are superfluous. If only I was better than I am, like I'm better than them.

4 comments:

Darius said...

Chris is this meant to be ironic?
Just wondering because it's so full of hypocrisy, arrogance, dilusional egoism, stupidity and illiogic that it doesn't seem like your being serious and is quite in contrast with the majority of your beautiful other writings.

Chris Kirk said...

I thought I had made the irony too obvious with this repetition of arrogance. Of course there is a degree of honesty in the hypocrisy, but I am aware of the irony in the arrogance, yes.

Chris Kirk said...

‎(I guess I do have a history of assuming an irony that's not necessarily obvious. It has got me into trouble before.)

Darius said...

Yeah that's why i asked, i was thinking about your "racist poem" and that was probably a similar irony.
I wouldn't think it obvious but questionable because alot is true of yourself.
I thought maybe you'd been feeling jaded and pissed off over the digital hive mind. All the madness can make one feel rather crazy with frustration at times and fear of it can lead to anger to hate to arrogance to the dark side.
I think your ambiguous irony is a good thing, it makes people angry, think, talk, question, it brings the scurf to the surface and people can see things in themselves things they don't like.
Your irony is like a mirror.