looking to straightedge as heroes left us lacking. trans, poor, feral, no real icons. couldn’t find the names stolen throughout history. didn’t want to fit into aesthetic based scenes and couldn’t when trying. so we run ourselves, according to codes unwritten til now. greenedge is our life. when we falter cages stay closed.
informed, autonomous consent
security and secrecy
refusal to comply or be arrested
diversity of roles, clarity of tactics
reduced personal consumption
situational awareness re: usage
skillsharing
attachment analysis
acknowledging nyx as mother of chaos
led us to the decision that this is the only path.
we cannot allow ourselves to be appeased because we received no benefits.
starving, homeless, locked into cities, we refused to be caged but lost all stability again. somehow our lives survived, uncaged these seasons.
we have no choice but fight.
occupy everywhere
take over every building. empty houses, libraries, paused construction & universities have immediate housing space. find the trees, keep them upright.
free all prisoners
open every cage. prisons, zoos, schools, theme parks, company towns. vivisection facilities, foster and group homes, psych wards.
pay for nothing
rack everything that aint bolted and bring tools to lift that shit. what are you taking compared to some government?
open hospitals
force the skilled to use their tools without compensation. we need healthcare. you dont need id.
never work again
is ur best plan failing as a small business owner? go feral, youll make more of an impact.
don’t want to die of drugs but don’t want to die of sobriety. mad. balance and ritual to keep sane awake and in motion. my diet is greenedge: i eat vegan food for my sustenance. clarity may require sustenance too.
in collapse time is the enemy of stability but you can jump rafter to rafter and keep your heel steady on some foothold. dancing gravity’s soft green edges for life. don’t want friends to die of drugs either. gotta stay green. don’t like blacking out or too dizzy to bolt. bolt cutters not an aesthetic but heavy machinery. the body is a heavy machinery too. when the body gets heavy or weak the green edge keeps us training because we gotta jump from rafter to rafter to weather the fire.
what grounds you to this planet? drugs? your daily bread? daily television? chores? petty foibles? your hopes and your fears? or is it gravity keeps you down here with its heavy machinery? the gravity of being green and still living. the gravity which makes sobriety as necessary as it is impossible. mad.
hungry. still grasping at handholds, reasons to not float away or sink away into this sea of soil. we learn to love gravity’s green little edges. a worn cavity touching a solid sensation: chunked human soles resting flat on irregular footing. the feel of earth between toes, and an earthworm. crawling tunnels. transforming sustenance into sustenance, soil into soil. picky bottomfeeders we too crawl along a leafblade’s greenedge. tired of yesterday’s shit yet in need of tomorrow. still chasing sobriety with something stronger.
we got the greenedge.
