And Then It Gets Cliche

There were eyes on advertisements on the 49, looking at us, pleading for better childcare, for erections, for a vacation on the Caribbean, for us to drink the latest flavor of vodka,
They were encrusted with the sweat, piss, semen, tears, spilled coffee and wiped mucus of a fistful of the population of the ‘Greater Seattle Area’ that was the size of bigfoot’s palm,
but they still shone through,
eyeing us, begging us, seeing right through to us, crying for us, relaxing for us, repenting for us, f*****g for us, forgetting about us.
And the city was all about FUN and all about GETTING LUCKY and all about BARS and all about FRIENDS and all about LOVE and all about LAUGHTER and all about “THE NIGHTS YOU CAN’T REMEMBER BUT STILL CAN’T FORGET!”
…And then it gets cliche,
and then it gets boring,
and then it repeats itself.

That is not my world, that is not my city, the skyscrapers of Seattle are too tall to tickle my fancy, and I realize time and time again that 

I am too small.

There were eyes on each store I passed by on University Way,
looking through me more than anyone that I knew could,
begging me “BE THE PERSON YOU WISH YOU COULD BE, DRINK COCA COLA, GO TO COLLEGE, HAVE IT YOUR WAY, DONATE TO STARVING CHILDREN IN PERU, GET ON A PLANE AND GET LOST, BE THE LOVER YOU WISH YOU COULD BE, BUYBUYBUYBUYBUYBUY!”
Consumerism attempts to hold each one of our hands in ways more surprising and more shocking and more often than an attack by the Green River Killer,
SO LETS LET THE BIG-WHIG CORPORATIONS TELL US HOW TO LIVE OUR LIVES AND WHO TO BE AND WHAT TO WEAR AND WHAT TO EAT AND WHO OUR FRIENDS SHOULD BE,
LET THEM GUIDE THE WAY AND WE’LL JUST GET FUCKED UP HAND-IN-UNLOVABLE-HAND SO WE DON’T HAVE TO BE CONSCIOUS OF OURSELVES,
ISN’T THAT WHAT BEING YOUNG IS ALL ABOUT?
…and then it gets boring,
and then it gets cliche,
and then it repeats itself.

There were eyes all around me,
but I always avert eye contact

Author's Note

unfinished, rant