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I admit, maybe the start is a bit off-topic. But that's the point. It's the progress of my mind through a day in the third-world as a traveller.


First world.

I need to stand for one thing,
What I feel comfortable doing,

Even if it means screwing,
With everything that is me,
Free,
But not really,

Because beyond free,
I am romantically,
Impeded,
Stampeded by my inability,
Too see rationally,
How being monogamous,
Really doesn't fit me,
Sex sets me free,
But needy me,
Makes what matters,
Not the sexuality,
But the feeling of how sickly,
Couples make me feel,
Out of jealousy,
How quickly,
I find excuses when the pressure begins to peel,
Away at the petty squabbles,
Between my girl and I,
About silly shit,
That doesn't matter but,
I see fit,
To make a point,
Because I wanna be right,
My logic ain't tight,
But in a fight,
Mind meets logic,
Mind wins,
Logic in practice,
Means my body sins,
Face grins,
But inside,
No smiles,
Inner-conflict,
Means I never win,
Un-anxious happiness,
Reality is thin,
Don't spin,
If I spin,
My mind might implode,
Exploding would be a release,
From all the fucking emotional grease,
Splattered onto the canvas,
It would tell of a man,
With very few ways to express,
What he misses,
All this grief,
Manifested in a weird,
Belief that it's him that ill-fitted,
Cultural guilt for being white,
Not particularly wanted to make a girlfriend a wife,
The fact he has got a bit too good a life,
And that he stills wants something more,
In spite of these gripes,
He tries to smile,

His emotional shite,
Doesn't sit well against a backdrop of real poverty,
Let's face it,
He's never really known strife,
He knows this,
The fact his first property,
Will most likely be ten times the size,
Of what their lives work,
Can fund,
Properly,
I see that it's all because their born black,
Or just dark,
Pasty-white,
Is synonymous with not having to properly having to put up a fight,
Carry water for miles,
See slaughter of childs,
Work in the fields,
Travel for miles,
To find work,
That most likely isn't even there,
They don't exist,
They are like societies cyst,
A guilty truth we can't sweat,

You will not forget,

How we have it so good,
Is a basis of poverty having to exist,
For us to be free from stress,
Real stress,
Take a second and think,
For them to succeed,
They have to get educated,
Free themselves from third-world stink,
Segregate from what they've come,
Forget the filth,
From what they begun,
I get spun,
From what segregation can become,
Western-bubble,
Won't burst,
Unless we make it,
Because of a healthy thirst,
For justice,
Most us haven't sussed this,
Yet,
But we learn,
We should regret our privilege,
Because at the end of the day,
What did we do to earn it?
Our forefathers didn't earn it,
They took it,
Exploited the weak,
They didn't like it,
They burnt it,
We live in misconception,
That capitalism works,
Keep making gradual changes,
Maybe one day,
They'll be less worse off,
Well,

I call bullshit,
Capitalism doesn't work,
It works for us,
Why wouldn't they wanna rip us off,
We come to their countries,
Showing off the money,
They will never earn,
Of course their gonna exploit our trust,
We haven't earned,
The right to be morally outraged,
We have been ripping off the third-world for hundreds of years,
When they where still hunting with spears,
We where blueprinting a system,
Of which one of it's worst fears,
Are a population with a conscience,
Hence charities,
The strongest example of capitalism fear,
Experienced and solved,
Via donation,

You think you're doing enough?
Never fear,
You're not alone,
Lot's of good people cheat themselves,
Thinking that supplying a stone,
Will build a wall,
In fact we are all fools,
Every single one of us is cruel,
With no evil intent,
Just participation in a machine,
That let's only the west dream....





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Publicerad 2015-10-08 09:44



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The intellectual moron