Teenage Rhymes: a teenagers ire in one sentence.

Don’t think I’m emulous of your misery even though you out-scream yourself about heaven in your holiday camps full of luxurious adds that corrupt the mind of so many others than the easy to victimize mob of hate voting lower and middle class intolerants who sell themselves at any price that is offered by a dilapidated and impotent society only to be able to purchase the drug that is the new consuming and although I twaddle too often rubbish and prefer not to think, at least I play-act not to, in order to prevent me from breaking and surrendering my soul to the consumer-whore exposed in the shop window as the seductive promiscuous man or woman of the Babylonian multinationals and yet with pleasure will I blow out my final breath when I regenerate as a heroic anti-consumer. 




Author's note.
To believe this was written some 40 years ago and just last decade I was able to....well....to let go....