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The cultural bookmarks of summer being betwixt
Memorial Day and Labor Day kinda fuck me up, because all the other cultural
shit I’m supposed to have done – gone on a vacation, sat at the beach, chilled
the fuck out – hadn’t really happened. Plus social media is a devil cop,
because you see people sitting at the beach going on vacation chilling the fuck
out and you wonder what’s wrong with you, or why you ain’t got shit it looks
like everybody else got?
Just remind myself I have the heart of a lounger,
where the blood pumps slow enough to not allow manufactured drama overtake when
shot out from a brain too heavily steeped in poison culture inputs. I was
walking a lot all the time, so even if I wasn’t getting planned and paid
excursions in one big lump sum, as many nights or mornings or possible I was “getting
away”. Acting with the heart of a lounger means you’re trying to build vacation
escape endorphins in your every day, and not on some rich man life of leisure
shit either, because for a workingman or anyone born and bred far enough down
the American pyramid scam that “life of leisure” never been a possibility, you
gotta figure out how to keep it light with heavy weight pushing down on your
shoulders at all times. It’s doable.
Anyways, if you got a three-day weekend and acting like it’s the end of summer
with assorted lounge activities, I hope it’s a blessed couple days of high
chill. And if you still gotta work, like many folks do, ironically on Labor Day
because our poison culture more concerned with productivity than the power of
lounge, and got us all trapped in these financial user agreements which don’t
really benefit us, then I hope you have a blessed couple days too. Fuck these
devils.
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