Who am I? Where am I?

Why am I?

These questions occupy my mind.

'No Vacancy' now because they

Consume me.

Too soon to see. I know

but time is my enemy. The world

I occupy attempts to murder me

Every. Day.

Writing frees my mind. Even now

I feel the questions soften.

I can breathe and the breath carries

my memory over the strings of time.

Like a film on rewind and with a sigh

I close my eyes and I...can't...write.

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When my thoughts find the past

I do whatever I can to live the past

I know it won't last. It comes and goes

so fast.

I'm going to do my best to paint with words

the world that was before The Ultimate Purge.

I realize it might not work because you -

The Reader - likely knows not what we've known.

You've never even heard of an iPhone.

But who knows? When you read this maybe

just maybe

the world will once again feel like home.

Let me begin by saying the world is now

a fucking shit storm and the 99% still fight

each other.

Even in the face of certain doom

after seeing world leaders orchestrate a coup

The perspective is still skewed. Unmoved.

Construed. Home brewed. Perfectly fueled.

So even those of us who want to fight the top

have to survive by defending against neighbors.

There is no more trust - even among family.

Survival is all.

Beside the who, the where, and the why.