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Monday, June 25, 2012

"Prohibition's bitter fruit is never a Nation's sobriety. Instead it is Crime, Corruption, and Disrespect for Lawful Authority."


How the US Government, Banks, Prison-Industrial Complex, Corrupt Officials, Businesses, Law Enforcement, Racists and the CIA Profit From Illegal Drugs

FULL CIRCLE by Kay Lee


Once upon a time there was a very young girl who looked with wonder upon every new thing.  The mere act of waking up brought a smile to her face. She would leap from her bed with excitement over what new and wonderful experiences the day would offer her.
Every moment of every single day was a celebration of life. The sweet smell of her favorite blanket soft under her nose, the feel of her clean clothes brushing against her body, the taste of her cereal and juice; Everything brought her joy.  
A tree dropping a leaf on her head could make her laugh. A bird singing its early song could make her sigh with pleasure. Music made her dream and the rain made her dance. She was born to experience life and she did it beautifully.
But then... It happened to her much the same as it happens to everyone:
Her parent's arguments began to drown out the birds; her society frowned on rain dances so she stopped; her school took away her love of learning; bullies took away her confidence; her church destroyed her unbridled faith; her job stifled her creativity; her leaders brought fear to her mind and their rules limited her freedom...
...and she slowly, without noticing, climbed into a box much too small for her, curled up and became an imitation of what she was expected to be.
She lived many years in this fashion; alarmed by the clock every morning, struggling for a paycheck to pay for her box, driven by advertisers and propagandized by anchormen and dictated to by rich men with power. The world began to make her tired. She was very discouraged, and in this manner, she grew old, had a heart attack and died.
When she was revived, doctors said, "We saved your life." She thought, "What for?" and began to question all that had brought her to this point. 
And then she woke up. She threw away the alarm clock, turned off the tv, climbed out of the tattered box that had become her life and began to live again.
She expanded and grew into the child she once was. People called her eccentric and hinted she was senile, but she couldn't hear them over the songs of the birds. She began to wake with a smile, find the beauty in each day and once again danced in the rain with great joy. 
The End.