BREAD
Day breaks the first thing I smell is my house, I've always woken up like this. I raise from bed and look at my wife at the end of the bed hangs a black cloth reminding me of why I have always woken up smelling my bed. Why I have always kissed my wife goodbye and hugged my children, I don't necessarily work in a dangerous place on the contrary it's is a quiet place, sad, treacherous place I decided to call the edge of the world. I walk, walk towards the white pillars of smoke slowly my mind goes blank, no longer does it think of the pain the hardships. As my body stepped in front of the factory I was in the state of no mind, my body moved, on its own walked towards the door and entered the dark abyss. As of now I paid no head to the brick walls the stillness of everything, all men where already at their stations. My mind wavered for a second I noticed everyone's eyes in the room, empty, lost, sad they were eyes that lost hope. Again I felt my mind fade back and I wondered for a split second before the whistle rang to signal work, I thought do I have the same eyes as them?
As the day went by everything in my mind was blank I only focused on what I needed to focus on, I only needed to focus on the object I needed to create, the only thing I've had to create for the past year. I thought nothing of it that is, until the lunch whistle at this point my body and mind have been set to the whistle it was a signal for me to work. As I silently ate my small piece of bread I thought back, back to the days where I hopped to become chief of this factory now that thought was the furthest thing from my mind. I only thought of how to survive and how to work myself like a slave to do just that, survive. At the end of the day I walk home as I reached the house the familiar scent of cabbage and water filled the air. My wife decided to make cabbage soup for the hundredth time, I really can't remember when was the last time I had meat. I looked across the table and noticed the sad faces then I remembered why I work, I work to make these children happy, and in these hard times I can be replaced at any moment. It is at these times that I remember I have to work to keep my family alive.
ROSES
What is it that I don't have? I am filthy rich there isn't anything I can't buy, heck I give my guest cigarettes wrapped in hundred dollar bills. I make $600 dollars an hour while my workers get tidally squat, am I evil? Isn't America the land of opportunity? because if I'm evil then maybe you aren't American. All I'm doing is creating "my" opportunity to create my empire and to have everything I desire. I have in now way done anything which would be considered unlawful in this land the strong survive while the weak perish that is how the world works, that is how I work. Right now as I am writing this, as I am writing my daily life which will soon one day become famous because I am an extravagant man I can not help but feel pity for the peasants that work for me but as I continue to write that pity quickly disappeared. Why should I care for the poor all they are to me is my money and that is all that matters in this world, MONEY! And truly that is all that matters now I will sigh off on this journal entry and go wreck some lives so I can make a few extra bucks.
Day breaks the first thing I smell is my house, I've always woken up like this. I raise from bed and look at my wife at the end of the bed hangs a black cloth reminding me of why I have always woken up smelling my bed. Why I have always kissed my wife goodbye and hugged my children, I don't necessarily work in a dangerous place on the contrary it's is a quiet place, sad, treacherous place I decided to call the edge of the world. I walk, walk towards the white pillars of smoke slowly my mind goes blank, no longer does it think of the pain the hardships. As my body stepped in front of the factory I was in the state of no mind, my body moved, on its own walked towards the door and entered the dark abyss. As of now I paid no head to the brick walls the stillness of everything, all men where already at their stations. My mind wavered for a second I noticed everyone's eyes in the room, empty, lost, sad they were eyes that lost hope. Again I felt my mind fade back and I wondered for a split second before the whistle rang to signal work, I thought do I have the same eyes as them?
As the day went by everything in my mind was blank I only focused on what I needed to focus on, I only needed to focus on the object I needed to create, the only thing I've had to create for the past year. I thought nothing of it that is, until the lunch whistle at this point my body and mind have been set to the whistle it was a signal for me to work. As I silently ate my small piece of bread I thought back, back to the days where I hopped to become chief of this factory now that thought was the furthest thing from my mind. I only thought of how to survive and how to work myself like a slave to do just that, survive. At the end of the day I walk home as I reached the house the familiar scent of cabbage and water filled the air. My wife decided to make cabbage soup for the hundredth time, I really can't remember when was the last time I had meat. I looked across the table and noticed the sad faces then I remembered why I work, I work to make these children happy, and in these hard times I can be replaced at any moment. It is at these times that I remember I have to work to keep my family alive.
ROSES
What is it that I don't have? I am filthy rich there isn't anything I can't buy, heck I give my guest cigarettes wrapped in hundred dollar bills. I make $600 dollars an hour while my workers get tidally squat, am I evil? Isn't America the land of opportunity? because if I'm evil then maybe you aren't American. All I'm doing is creating "my" opportunity to create my empire and to have everything I desire. I have in now way done anything which would be considered unlawful in this land the strong survive while the weak perish that is how the world works, that is how I work. Right now as I am writing this, as I am writing my daily life which will soon one day become famous because I am an extravagant man I can not help but feel pity for the peasants that work for me but as I continue to write that pity quickly disappeared. Why should I care for the poor all they are to me is my money and that is all that matters in this world, MONEY! And truly that is all that matters now I will sigh off on this journal entry and go wreck some lives so I can make a few extra bucks.
