Heroes and dreams are a lie

It's become a cold reality to me, that, in fact, my life doesn't matter.

Go figure, right? There's no help for someone who just plain needs help. Becuase I'm caucasion (white), the state nor the goverment of the United States of America, believes that my family, nor I, myself, could ever be in need, could ever need welfare, or ever be in a postion that could in fact, take everything away from us that we ever worked for. Because I am eighteen-years-old, literate, not a drug addict, not an alcoholic, not pregnant, not already a parent, not married, or in the military, the government finds it to be obvious, that I could never find myself in financial need. What makes me such a horrible and unworthy person? Could it be my morals? Or, perhaps my common sense...maybe it's because I wasn't born on the right day, or maybe because I have a breathing condition that prevents me from being in the military. Or maybe, just maybe, being a middle class caucasion female makes me a piece of trash to them, well, at least it's what they make me feel.

To succeed in life, these days, one needs money, and a good quantity of it, and second, a piece of paper from some University that says they are entitled to a good life, and a good standard of living. Unfortunately, for those who start out with nothing but ambition and no money, there is no use for. Maybe people like me should kill ourselfs and save others the pain of watching us fail and be turned away; two or three hours at a funeral to eventually be put on a backburner and forgotten may be better than years and years and years of disappointment, and wasting everyone else's time, space and air.

Where are your heros now? Where are my heros now... where are the rockstars, and models, and all those great celebrities and politians we worship when we need them? When I need them? Where are the multimillionaires when American children are left without hope to a future?

I guess they don't care either. I've met some... but I guess they all forget what it feels like to be without; some were born rich and famous and will never know what its like to decide between feminine care products, the medicine you need to breathe, or food... they'll never know what's like to loose their homes.

Where are my heroes?

In a third world country.... or Africa. Far away from the US and anyone from their own country who needs them to. I guess the late George Carlin was exactly correct..

"There's just enough bull**** to hold things together in this country. Bull**** is the glue that binds us as a nation. Where would we be without our safe, familiar, American bull****? Land of the free, home of the brave, the American dream, all men are equal, justice is blind, the press is free, your vote counts, business is honest, the good guys win, the police are on your side, God is watching you, your standard of living will never decline, and everything is gonna be just fine. The official national bull**** story. I call it the American okie-doke. Every one of those items is provably untrue at one level or another, but we believe them because they're pounded into our heads from the time we're children."

I just don't know anymore. Maybe somewhere out there, there's a real hero. People like Colin Farrell have pulled people off the street and gotten them food and clothes.... people like me arent that lucky.

"This life ain't worth livin'"

Maybe someone out there can make it worth living...

Plastiscines, Beirut, The Raveonettes