Mail Bag

Dear Slingshot,

I have managed to wade my way through another year of material existence. I was content with the mass insanity: sell my days away for money, so that I can spend it back for the necessities of life such as food and shelter. But I can no longer live out that lie.

I quit my job. I am shedding my material possessions. We are planning a communal greenhouse. I am transitioning to cheaper rent, hopefully to become rent-free. I have turned the one small clock in my home face-down.

On New Year’s Day, two friends and I were in Atlanta at the mercy of a consumerist family with which we traveled. As they spent money we turned a 20 foot section of broken sidewalk into a non-commissioned series of rock sculptures.

The voice of freedom whispers in our ears, occasionally licking the lobes seductively. Yet the sirens of oppression blare incessantly. I believe that the whispers will be heard.



Asheville, NC