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Born with a broken back, but I stand up straight. Father's sins visit me after his death, giving me my pain, my poverty, my occasional isolation. Hate looking in the mirror, for fear of being labeled a narcicist. My curse from mom was a rotting mind and assertive personality. The drama controllers have me as a pariah among all, but I was already pariah before I spoke up. Slave to banks, yet punished by never earning enough to fulfill my conned obligation. Collecters demand their money, but do not understand why I do not have any money. Free internet from a local library helps peek at the world. I ask you, why are you reading this? Drama controllers have everyone dancing, jumping, screaming, crying and beating each other to death. They have us stalking, following and falling forever into decaying oblivion. Money does not solve anything, when we can share solutions. We just keep getting scared stupid and fuck over ourselves or other people we love, meanwhile the money manipulators and controllers enjoy our collective torture and exhalt themselves as gods.
