

Me and the other residents, if there was money to spare. Unfortunately, the economy doesn’t lend itself to getting a job that lets people to be adults and human at the same time. The bread victor shouldn’t have to sacrifice their happiness for keeping the place in better shape.
RFK wants to send me to a wellness farm. Also, the black dude down the street, just because.
I think the choice to conflict has been made for me, and I should get ready to fight. That means training, and joining up with whoever else who wants to die on their home’s soil. I am not going to El Salvador.