suburbian starvation

My town is alive and hungry. Matter of fact, many of the areas around me are feeding off of their residents. Like a skilled predator, luring their prey deeper into its jaws with the false scent of comfort. I am being hunted by this town, or perhaps it is too late? 

It all looks the same, and after having a taste of the outside world, having a chance to escape the cold, wet hand of this devourer for just a few days had caused me great pain. Pain coming from my own fault of succumbing to the beast's hypnotizing lullaby. Being the creature that I am, I flock to safety, or whatever provides me with certainty. 

I have seen with my own eyes and felt with my own skin, with my own blood what happens when certainty is no longer available. 

Was I not taught to brave against it? 

I was brought as an offering to this town, I'm convinced. To become another inhabitant and produce more offerings to feed the machine, as I feed it now. These small clusters of monochromatic houses are infected with the smell of age, concealed behind glimmering metal and gold. 

I don't head children anymore, just the quiet sound of death. 

But who knows what will happen of us. 

I am the son of a dying man. I was raised under an uncertain smile and an overworked heart. The living shackle to our government, I am the cause of who my parents are today. 

My birth awoke something deep in the valley and it answered with open arms and open plains. 

More often I relate myself to a parasite, or a ghost, as I grow with age. This room is my cage and I am to wait until someone picks me up from this... building. Less and less I call it a home. A hotel, maybe. I know I have overgrown my stay. 

Before I left college I requested to be taken away from my family. The years have drained something out of me that no longer wants to be apart of the domestic dance that I had learned since childhood. 

I do not wish for my own children, nor the conventional route of a family. I desire peace and likeminded individuals to create into infinity, a power source that never dies.

If I am childless, they cannot control me. 

I have little to lose when I face them with only my body. I am not bound to another life, if I choose to face head on into the fires of rebellion.

I hold no expectations for my life. All I wish to keep is my good health, my strength, and whatever primal instincts that are useful even in todays age. Eating right, keeping tidy, strengthening my focus, all to weaponize myself against what is to come. Our world is growing infants of war around us, I have seen them and felt them myself. 

Pick the right ones to hold, and you will be just fine. 

I choose not to hate, even those who hurt me. Hate originates in self harm, it does nothing but sour the people around you. 

I distrust people in a calm manner - that gives me armor. Hate spikes the distrust and gives you a sword.