The Chronic Malcontent

A zine for constructive complaining
RANTS 1Q2003
Arts and Lit
Two years ago on September 8, 2001, our
company picnic was a carefree day. The
following Tuesday changed everything.

The last weekend before the day.

It was the last weekend before the day
We could laugh in the sunshine and play
We didn't know how much we'd have to
It was the last weekend before the day.

A picnic afternoon, hot and sunny
And everyone thought they were funny
While they all reached to pet the bunny
And didn't have to spend any money

A lazy day all carefree
No worries then for you and me
Could be anything we wished to be
Could see anything we wished to see

It's been years since the day
And we still pay and pay
In precious lives and liberty
Since the last weekend before the day
You've got your selfish desires.  And then, you can
wonder about the rest of the world, and how it's doing.  
You want peace in your time, peace in your space, peace
in your place.

But you drive a car every day that uses gas. You eat food
every day that is manufactured by companies that are
impossibly large.  You plug in every imaginable thing on
your circuit.  You waste water.  You waste energy.

You want to be a good citizen.  You want better trains,
better libraries, better schools, better police protection.

You want lower taxes. You want less responsibility.  You
want to be free to own guns.  You want to be left alone.  
You want your privacy.

You want to live comfortably. You want a roof over your
head. Enough food on the table. A small yard and garden.

You charge items you can barely find time to use once.
You pay for things that you could reasonably wait for,
until you could pay cash for them instead of charging

You want desparately to be liked. You long to be loved
by someone who is kind and caring.

You don't want committment. You are afraid of losing
your independence.  You don't want to get hurt.  You fear
letting someone know who you really are.

If there are any answers to how to sanely navigate these
issues, they are evasive and often involve a level of self
examination that at best is painful.

And each one of us has to find their own way.