Emo Anarchist Girl

It's so unfair that people expect me to have a job. I'm an artist. I create stuff that's really emotional, and I can't sit in an office all day -- I need to be free. Like I totally think the government should subsidize artists' living expenses, because we make the world a better place.

 Business people are greedy -- all they do is work; and save money; and buy houses and cars; and get married; and have babies and dogs and stuff. What about me? I need to eat and sleep too, but I can't buy food, because no one will give me money. Even my friends and family turned their backs on me. I texted them for donations so I could go to Seattle and protest corporate greed in America, and all they gave me was $1. How messed up is that shit?

I'm practically starving in my parents' basement, and they couldn't give me a few hundred dollars to fight capitalism? I'm talking about the greediest people in the world. But I showed them. I dyed my hair orange, and dressed all in black, and tied a pink bandanna around my face, and marched downtown with my backpack and 20 cans of spray paint that I "borrowed" from the hardware store -- I shouldn't have to pay for art supplies anyway.

 It was so cool downtown. I smashed up storefronts with a billy club I bought from Amazon last week, and I chucked smoke bombs at anyone who didn't look homeless. It was totally perfect, because there were thousands of people already marching for something like Equality for Immigrants -- I can't remember what they called themselves. It doesn't matter; no one was interested in their little group after me and my friends started wrecking shit. Some creep pig caught me tagging this uber-expensive Escalade, and I pointed my spray paint at him like "don't mess with me a**hole."

Next thing I remember I was on the ground screaming. He pepper sprayed me, and threw me in jail. Oh, well -- Mom and Dad are on their way to bail me out. Did I mention my family's like totally loaded?