Fear and Loathing in Washington DC, abridged

The mood is terrifying. The stress, insurmountable. We are tired. Police State Insomnia. Two or three hours every 24, sometimes every 48. Writing in this kind of caffeine dependent condition is a waste of time. No longer knowing one day to the next, we continue to hold our space. This is all about holding our space. Sleeping is illegal, and common sense is following.

General assemblies are turning into general asses. Consensus is a joke, because our brains are hardwired on when we can sleep again. Churches are offering spaces, if not the whole church to us, but the hardcore among us wait for a break of sunlight to heat our naps from the District of Corruption’s icy winds and hard sidewalks. The general assemblies have turned into nothing more than how to fund raise for our kitchen and heating needs, so we can at least heat water for coffee, eat something, and not freeze to death. Note to future generations, have your revolutions in the summer, not in the winter with that fucking old man blowing ice on you all day and night. This is assuming we are all not rounded up, the First Amendment demolished and speech is an Orwellian nightmare. We joke about a Second Amendment solution, but that is due to the lack of sleep, and we are so weak we can barely pick ourselves up.

All the tents are empty, doors open, have to be cleaned out everyday from the rats. No, the United States Park Police are not pissing and shitting in our tents for us to clean, yet. Give them time.

What are we doing, undertaking such a psychological torture, warfare even, perpetrated by our own government, still trying to drive a large protest movement? Why would we do this to ourselves? We want this change, whatever that is, and right now we must maintain the camp.

There is a reason this is called an occupation. True, our brothers and sisters in the Military have it far worse, no one is shooting bullets at us yet, and we are spoiled in that we have a Corporate Coffee Chain a few minutes away. But this is an Occupation none the less. We are treated as such. Most of the camp, vigil, whatever, are from out of state, and we are homeless. Our tents are no longer our homes. We occupy nothing more than a park bench, a Media/Medic tent, a benevolent church, a behemoth bookstore. We are everywhere, yet we must hold our little space, because we are under attack, and we are unarmed. This is an occupation for the Freedom of Speech, now a Vigil of Pro Democracy Protesters, against a country Forcing Democracy at the Barrel Of A Gun.

If the Pro Democracy Protesters of America are to be tortured, then how does one expect our loved ones and kindred folk of Bahrain, Syria, and Egypt, be helped by this country? Do you think that America can really support the revolutions of those countries, when they treat their own protestors worse than the rats of Freedom Plaza and McPherson Square? So we are no longer Americans. Forget the fact that we have fought in wars from Vietnam to Iraq and Afghanistan, that we are now fighting for our rights and our voice in our government, fighting for our rights to peacefully protest. We are native born occupiers, hoping and working for a better tomorrow. Get this police state off our backs, and we can work harder. Because right now we are too focused on very very little.