Living is futile

I'm starting to realize that there really is no way to truly live other than fighting for genuine liberation. Others ways are not living, just an attempt to.

This is my vain attempt.

I have made difficult decisions in my life but none has prepared me for this. I have grown so little in the past two to three years that I think I am obliged to force myself to grow up now.

This isn't just about me anymore, it's about responsibilities. It's about family.

Unfortunately, I come from a lower petite bourgeois family. The past few years have not been our best, economically speaking. There really is nothing to blame but the economy/oppressors/landlords/imperialism/big bourgeois comprador. Call it whatever, it's the same shit when you look at the big picture.

Do you see it now?  It may seem like I have options but I don't.

Soon enough my heart and soul would die. I may continue to breathe, but I would be dead inside. I would be working to feed my siblings, to send them to school, to keep a roof over our heads. We would all attempt to live. My soul would be dead inside, but I would at least try to save my family's.