Tomorrow We Dance To Freedom






Economic Refugees

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Crossing over into a distance that seemed impenetrable the endless procession, this stream of humanity moved towards perfection. An exodus of light hearted, simple, and confident citizens were pulled towards the horizon on this beautiful day. Carrying dreams and aspirations that they'd never again subject to the whimsical pillage of a System World these colonists surged forward - reaching out with quivering hands.

They were the broken, the corrupted, and the emptied.

Onward they were drawn in this silent string passing over a barren purged landscape. They rattled forth with their cups dancing to a proud rhythm; these pilgrims blasted into abject poverty by criminal society intent upon perpetuating power by crushing them underfoot. No tears dropped to wet the fresh ground.

Leaving all their worldly possessions behind in foreclosed homes with signs that warned of dire legal consequences if the endless rights of this or that bank were violated - these vanquished former consumers moved forward.

They'd become permanently blind to consumerism, the result of dangerous exposure to the 'radioactive' corruption that contaminated the world. But now was their time, their destiny, they'd cast off the unscrupulous machine state. They weren't being beckoned towards a mirage of equality or a mirage of pure freedom but a reality resting in simplicity.

Their efforts wouldn't be wasted on leaders that couldn't grasp the concept of dignity, respect, and decency. They'd carve their own future from the ruins of their past, a past that gushed with a wealth of experience, knowledge, and wisdom.

They realized that the journey wouldn't be easy. It would require undistorted objectivity not clouded by the disease of rapacious buying. Having all succumbed to the marketer's clarion call these voyagers were now capable of identifying the symptoms of this all-encompassing addition.

Only able to make a pittance of their original wages these capitalist refugees contributed mightily to the eventual collapse of the global economy. It was being ground down to a mere nub eventually to be transformed into the same sawdust that it cast aside. For these pilgrims were the sawdust wastage of an economic system that cannibalized itself in the satisfaction of the insatiable greed of a few.

The end is near but these simple people won't blink when this Nat flies in front of their eyes. Bugs will come, but their death is assured when the icy cold wind of winter blows hard.