(no subject)
Have you ever seen sand catch fire at 4:30 in the morning? Three Mile Island beach party as dawn breaks. Have you ever had to tell a kid with no face to "Smile, we'll all float on"? This is my summer. I'm making money like a child star with Macauly Caulkin's parents. I'm on a treadmill, getting exercise only in resentment. I don't know where I'm going. I don't know if I need to prepare myself to burn sand with a blue collar fate or to burn rubber to the only place I feel at home even though it's put me through more mental and emotional guantlets than I've ever faced in the previous eighteen years. Most days I feel like Nick Hornby in disguise. I've got blanks cds and an iPod full of supplies. To J.O., G.C., E.M., and S.N., B.B. hearts you and mixtaped your pictures to my locker, but I stayed in my basement listening to pop-punk instead of going to prom. How can you give the world a Coke and smile? I want to give the world a cigarette and tell it it's going to die. World Peace, Eradication of Poverty, what's the point? Bono can't do it, Bush can't, Kerry can't, not even a female president or civil disobedient hippies can do anything to change the world. And hey Bono, why don't you go fix poverty in your hometown, then your county, then your island, and worry about the entire world later. These are all unsolvable problems. You're at the Gordian knot and have no sword or any grasp of lateral thinking. If the world burns down I'm going to dance on the ashes and talk with the Childlike Empress who has that one last grain of Fantasia. If you go to a protest or a march I'm going to laugh at you because you're not going to change anything. And I'm sure you'll laugh at me for being such an idiot. But at least we're all laughing.