I walked the streets of New York City as the festivities and well wishers filled the air with drunken yells and the smell of vomit for yet another year, my mind wanders, today begins the plan I've prepared for 5 years, and I found myself celebrating along side the sheep as this year dawns. I found this diary in the inventory of an odd street vender, of all the hundreds of venders peddling various wares, he was different. He had a confidence of higher education, intrigued I spoke with him. 

He was a Princeton educated engineer, working for a predominate architecture firm not to far away from his humble cart of trinkets. He had a salary of over $100K a year, a loft overlooking Central Park, even a Mercedes SLK, that was until the economy crashed and companies and governments decided to freeze construction efforts, leaving my friend's project at a stand still month after month till the budget ran out and the board canceled it, along with his employment. So he moved to a less then safe housing district, sold his super-car to get a 10 year-old "super" van, and put the rest of his severance pay into his cart. "I've always wanted a simpler life," he told me as I held this book in my hands, "before I had deadlines, friends who were also my rivals, and stress that almost burned me out, but now? I have cart with tourist junk, yea i know what'cha thinking, but I love it! I make my own hours, I meet new people every day, and know what? Not one of them wants my job." He told me with an odd happiness about the cart. How he found it in an allyway, discarded like he was, he rescued it from the cold, salty long island air and gave it new life. A metaphor of my goals.

Change. That is what I strive for, not the hollow words of politicians, nor the helping comfort of kind souls, neither will eliminate the cause of the grief. The greed that grips an unjust soul, who lust for wealth and power for their selfish ends. No regard for the worker who only wants to feed his family and give his children hope for the future. I don't mean communism either or some utopia, but something sustainable, a change of management. I write this diary as both a record and witness, my plan is a bold one, and I'm not certain on success as it stands now, so many variables... 

For now I toast the new year, tomorrow I attempt my first recruiting venture, may fortune favor the foolish.
 


Darl
02/15/2015 4:16pm

Augh how do I progress in the story.

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James Diaz
02/16/2015 2:34pm

Use the menu and select chapter 1 and all the entries will be listed.

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