Rage

There is something about my silence that makes me sick. Something about the control that makes my blood rise - something about the incessant ranting and emails and bureaucratic fucking EXPERTS - I hate this - being in a country that is putting people under control - and no face to the music that is the clear and present life rippling through everything - is squashed by the almighty media machine - crushing everyone and everything in it’s flat land fucking mould! I have had enough of being nice about something that is wrong - that makes me sick in my stomach. Its sadness really - a deep sadness that there is this one line to tow - that this has become our nation - it’s nature to be proud of - nothing to shout - we won! - Just like the god damned All Blacks - us like sheep follow to the slaughter - why? Because we like being asleep - like being nursed by the mother bosom of the state - but like all banks, the government is not your friend. It is not your family. It does not love you - does not have your best interests at heart - does not care about this planet - or the destruction of rivers, oceans and soil - and so why I ask do you trust them with the one piece of wealth - your health I ask? Why? Why? I would rather die by my own hands and machinations - my own mind and choices than be right in the eyes of a fucking government. Long may people rise up and squat on parliament lawn - long may the illustrious history of occupation make its way to unhinge the comfort of the masses. Long may it make business squirm and the children say yes, we are with the free and the brave. A long time till we turn our faces the other direction and see that what we create and allow today - makes tomorrow - and the next day. The rage that is in me - is in you - is good! Is love! Is the under layer of truth itself at the cellular level - let it out people - let it out!