i havent eaten in days. but i liked it that way. i get home and watch tapes of ghandi, listen to music and meditate. this isnt the way someone is supposed to live, i suppose, but who sets the standard of how i should live? my fast started as a protest against abortion. now, im not particularly against abortion, but i do enjoy protesting and if i read enough propaganda from either side i can really get into it. so there i was, with two friends, laying on the front walk of a planned parenthood center. legally we could be there, as long as we werent blocking the pathway. we enjoyed the hisses from angry liberals, and threw bibles at them. a lot of old ladies and dumb rednecks stopped by to tell us jesus liked what we were doing, and we told them jesus was fake and we're all doomed to a fiery death. so we made zero friends. but at least we got in the newspaper. i dont think the reporter liked us much either (i looked at his tie and asked if he ever sold used cars) but no publicity is bad publicity, ecspecially when it's for a cause you dont really care about. by day three, however, the pro choicers started getting a little more violent. someone threw a rock at my friend ryan, which i thought was both funny and dramatic for a couple kids starving themselves. then ryan vomited on the walkway and the planned parenthood secretary called the police, saying the vomit was obviously standing in the way of a girl and her abortion. they never showed, but at least we can say we got the cops called on us. day four it happened. suddenly a black van pulled up, which obviously means trouble. immediately two figures, male and female, opened the door, ran out, grabbed us by our hair and dragged us into the van. it was about ten at night and no one was around, so they left a note saying god knows what. now we're trapped in this strange pit, while turkeys and sandwhiches are thrown down to us, seeing if we'll eat. of course not. we're rebels...
I like that. it's definately quirky..boderline weird. I was imagaing that the end was a kind of metaphor, where these two unborn twins were somehow protesting against abortion while they were in the womb.
That's pretty good Impromptu writing is usually wonderful, it flows and works so well because you don't force it. Used to do a lot of that in college.
The writing draws you in like it's a report, but at the same time you keep the theme anarchic so it keeps the interest. I honestly thought it was real. Nice one, jojo.
