Concerning the environment

I think the environment, like, I don't want to drown.
Brian was vague, but he was right. He did not want to drown. He wanted to live and be happy and smoke weed and all of those things seemed to be tied in with a healthy environment.
I just get so frustrated. You know
The frustration burned inside him, turning his guts to ashes and bile. He was mad. He was righteous. He was going to do something. Determination flooded his being and he was going to be a brilliant body of pure environmental enthusiasm. Just like his forefathers, he was going to take it back and give it back to the planet. The planets mystical energy swirled within his belly, and the aforementioned ashes turned into a tornado of pure colour.... Green!
But what can I do?
What could he do? What could he do? He was alone in a world of idiots. Mumbling, jack toothed, polluters. They were a cancer on his brain. He needed out. He needed out of it all. He didn't want to drown. Fuck them, fuck them all.
Fuck 'Em!
Fuck them.
Fuck.
Fuck. The tornado died down, the green faded to blue and he was depressed. He was going to die, it was inevitable. If the planet wasn't going to be destroyed by water, perhaps they would all just jump on them with their sweaty stupid bodies. Gyrating and poking him until their sweat drowned his pores and his bloated body would float to the top of them and burn as well. The green in his body became blue. What was he to do?
I may be one man, but I can still do something.
And as if paying attention to his own life narration, he realized that blue could also be a reference to blue box, and even if it was a one man crusade, he would fight it. It was his duty. To himself, to the world, even to the idiots.