Perhaps Chris Is Right

We are herded like cattle within a small space. The space leaves us nothing but the feeling of being caged. There is no place to plug the laptop nor the phone in. Nothing. It has been planned this way. The herd is what is expected once you enter America. The difference is extreme.

Why is this?

Why is this?

My parents, the ever worms, are fed this day to day, though they secrete a bit of rebellion in their farm. And the oil. Where is the oil, actually?

We shall see.

I am a claustrophobic person. Enclosure is desolation to me. I feel it now. And the herd. The mentality. I cannot live this way.