|The everlasting hatred of cabbage and fresh produce.
||[Apr. 4th, 2004|09:51 pm]
|[||I feel like
|[||The sound of
|||||Rolling Stones - Paint it black.||]|
Hah, I'm writing an English essay, my mind started wandering; I got this:
Consisting of neatly aligned cubicles, these housing projects serve as a corral for low class African Americans. This corral, their only choice of habitable structure, confines all of the uneducated, poor oppressed black youth and elderly into some sort of strange buffet of pro-crime salad; this produces a cycle which is difficult to solve, almost as if Waldo from Where's Waldo made a strange rendition of the rubix cube.
It works, kind of... for the cycle of poverty.