25 maintains they will remove children from their homes of gay parents. Where is the gay community. It matters not if those children were adopted or were dropped by a stork. Children coming from families where kids are extraordinarily sexually and emotionally abused, life and death, these children have already been ripped away from one place to another in a social cakewalk of musical chairs, all of them being electric, and these kids are not simply at risk, they are irrecoverably damaged. Babies, too. Then what. Where do we go now.

We’ll find some dump to stuff you in that makes things look like this is Home Number One. I did a piece on how Los Angeles social workers were dragging kids up in tall skyscrapers, and the children could sleep on the floor — on the floor — beneath a box of fun things. No one in LA wants to talk about child suicide. Office buildings are great supportive shadows of the ghosts who sit in those very chairs in daytime when the glorious sun is out and the children are gleefully playing  badminton.

They don’t play because they do not exist.

What is wrong with you people. You are out to kill the world. You are out to take our kids, pollute the air, and poison us.

Aristocracy could give a flying sloppy fuck. The culture war does have good guys and bad guys and I am here to tell you that you have lost on this one, Mr. and Mrs Good Guy. What I want to know is, how can people, smart people, people with real educations, work in a system that abuses hundreds of thousands of children. Every single one of the people I know, involved in the system, embedded in a graveyard of kid bones, have been burned and burned inside out, they don’t just quit, they kill themselves. Many of them are bottom feeders. Last year, the suicide rate among social workers who do this stupid dirty list of sheer brutality, has reached up to the stratosphere of 50%. Half of these people will kill themselves. Why are at-risk kids and their social workers killing themselves. Another Great Big Box of fun things.

It’s coming for you, baby. It’s coming for you.

You have failed. You have inhaled it.

How can you work in a prison. Are you crazy.

How are all of these children going to be put on trains in the night as they drag kids to a wall. I want to be the photographer who takes those photos. So they can be used by a court somewhere, anywhere. As evidence. Americans make me vomit.

Kid, you’re Mister On the Go.

Your hair’s on fire dontcha wanna grow.

Actually, they don’t. They want to survive. Today. They understand that it’s coming for them, and they make secret plans, usually pills. Boys go for guns. There is no hope for it. You have scrapped the 25 and its data is a racist binge of unrestrained hatred. Disguised as culture. And you love it, America. You love it. More graveyards. Better graveyards. Bozo graveyards. You have done this. Carnivorous graveyards. Segregated graveyards. Let’s all go hide in an office building. You are addicted to a neurotransmitter dopamine lust for blood. This time, it will be your children, too. The process will be orderly because all must obey unjust laws that govern mainly men, some women, but this is not about gender, this is about a fetish for execution itself. Everyone is fucked. 

25 maintains clearly and openly that the children not executed would be white kids with decent families. This morning, I wrote a letter to Justin Trudeau begging him to let me in.

I am begging you, Sir. It’s the last outpost.

I will do anything. To get the fuck out of America, and away from Americans. The most vicious place on the planet. Or I will have to volunteer for the wall. We can hold hands. Just look straight ahead. 

It won’t hurt.

— Tim Barrus