Laugh ’till you’re dead


What a shitty century I’m living in. Clasped under pillars and pillars of concrete or suffocating over acres and acres of pesticide plagued green lawns. Boys in fast cars make their engines very loud, and when they push that pedal down, they rattle everything in town.

I walk down the “preserved marshland” that solely exists to drain neighborhood storm water. I spot a few deer and birds along the way, but they always run or fly away, and it saddens me. They don’t trust me ’cause I’m human, and I don’t blame them because my kind has turned ever more ruthless… as they bulldoze everything their way. I wonder what it’d be like to live like Mogli or Tarzan and gain the trust of animals. I’d learn their language. Learn to jump around from tree branch to tree branch like an orangutan. Drink from the waterhole during animal truce time. Forage for fruits and share it with my fellow animal homies. Fuck for the rest of the day… that is if there was a chick who happened to come by the jungle, befriended me, and if I was a dude. Or why not the hell I just stay a chick and hope some dude walks by and befriends me. I’d be fit and healthy. I’d have a tribe of animals by my side.

The purpose would be jungle. Gather to live and live to love. Appreciate nature that sprouted me here to belong in this world. There’s no fee to get shade from a tree. There’s no need to consume over a thousand extra calories than what my body is naturally meant to sustain. There’s no need for gimmicks and makeup. There’s no pressure to look white. Scream in your tan skin, bare your yellow teeth, stick your tongue out and do scary savage shit. Uncomb your tangled hair, flare your nostrils and squint your eyes. Growl like the animals. Scare the humans away.
Laugh ’till you’re dead.

 

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