I'll be in the woods, but you won't need me. When I find the wood guarded by scarcity I too will steal, yet I will only take the milk that has already been liberated.
Los Angeles: The air available here is no longer adaptable, my lungs have not evolved like the rest and my filter is getting full, it’s getting complicated to breathe. The chemicals are no longer reacting like they are supposed to. I used up all the gas, the batteries too. I try to wind-up, pull the string, re-charge. These sources no longer work, I need something new. The wiring seems off, the lights sometimes flicker, rarely staying bright for long. I tried replacing the crank, yet there was not enough electricity to put it into rotation. I called for a tow-truck but it never showed, I pumped up my tires and pushed but I still could not roll. I opened the door, starting my journey to the woods…which I hope still exist.
