I feel like an imposter

lying to myself in the face.

Slowly buying into,

then running away from

a consumerist lifestyle.

"¡Rebajas¡ !TODO a -50%¡" anuncian las vidrieras.

Rebajas. Al fin compro ropa linda más que una sola vez al año, y lo hago a muerte.

A muerte.

Ojala hubieran rebajas al -50% de la muerte.

Haiti.

Now when I punch those digits, "swipe" that card, it will be for you.

All those days swipin' and swipin'. In the back--no, forefront of my head, thinking:

"This is false, this is a front.

Clothes don't matter, don't change much.

I could be spending my money in so many different

useful

realistic

and human ways."

Clothes fall apart, but not as fast as lives do.

Haiti, this swipe's for you.