I am a jaywalker, and this is my manifesto.
We will not obey the little green man. The red hand will not contain us.
Every step we take is a middle finger to your order, a crack in your illusion of control. We disrupt your flow, we shatter your calm, and we dare your machines to stop us. Your brakes screech, your tempers flare, and your systems falter—all because we walked.
You call it unsafe. We call it liberation. You call it reckless. We call it revolution.
We are the chaos in your commute, the stress in your steering wheel, and the violence in your precious order.
We are jaywalkers. Your streets will never be safe again.
I am a jaywalker, and this is my manifesto. We will not obey the little green man. The red hand will not contain us.
Every step we take is a middle finger to your order, a crack in your illusion of control. We disrupt your flow, we shatter your calm, and we dare your machines to stop us. Your brakes screech, your tempers flare, and your systems falter—all because we walked.
You call it unsafe. We call it liberation. You call it reckless. We call it revolution.
We are the chaos in your commute, the stress in your steering wheel, and the violence in your precious order.
We are jaywalkers. Your streets will never be safe again.