The locations, the memories, the burses, out of skirmishes, accidents, and violence. This country has the likeness and influences, of middle east, Taiwan, Great Briton, Paris, and the EU. When I was very young, it used to feel like USSR, perfect, we could fly. Later it turned into Asia Pacific, hot, steamy, over populated, humid. Now, it is just foreign, a bad neighbourhood, socially brutal. I dare not go outside, weather is bad, arid, even super polluted, with echo’s, and Log. It does feel like the movies, science fiction, post apocalyptic. Only every now, would one find himself, in a scuffle with someone else, anyone, complete strangers. I call it street fights, no arguments, just intense violence, of an encounter, with a taker, a high something, like a xenomorph. Nothing really happens, but I feel drained, as I recede into an enclosed, hideout, where I can be safe for the night, with food and water. I used to be a Ripley earlier, a solo survivor. Back on earth, life is the same, just men and women, wanting to start a fight, like a gang war, or with the authorities. Enforcers, they are heavy gear people, with hi-tech weapons, not like xenomorphs. I’m human, that’s my only identity in this bad land. People, they set the stage, the lure, then violence when they come, then the authorities, later after the lockdown, and bioshock, they leave, then I heal, as I rest.