The stewardess brings me a drink and I force smile, as I have been travelling for 3 hours and no sleep. LA 12 hours earlier. I am sat in a crappy motel and outside the usual sounds of sirens and gunfire fill the air. I crank up the radio on it The House of the Rising Sun is playing, the theme tune of this trip. Life is a trip the establishment drugs you through advertising, fast food, celeb photo's in magazines and forces you to think you have no choice but to work the 9 (2) 5 (4) the next 30 years and drop dead.
Every morning metal coffins, buses, trains and taxi's, chug along carrying us to are eventual demise. Take the poor bastard who has a dream to be an artist and is to tired to do so, because he is in a shitty marriage and crap job. Why does this happen? It is a design in our society to keep you down. A guy enters Pop Idol and sings like a rock star and is automatically turned into a celeb. He has riches he has fame, he best keep hold of it as reality sucks.
Back on the plane I ponder my next step in life, do I except my current reality or do I buy a self help book or brake the chains that have confined me for the last 36 years......... You decide 4 me.
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