It's been awhile since I posted... Hope everybody's been well... I felt like I should share.
Here goes.
Violence is an oddly surreal thing when it happens. Not bombs dropping on a war zone, shearing limbs and blooding faces, 'holy shit-this-is-terrible', violence; I'm talking about random, brief altercations that flare up and disappear before you even have a chance to process them.
Why don't I tell you what I'm talking about instead of babbling in generalities?
I was at the posh, soul-sucking torture chamber, better known as The Grove, a destination only avoiding Dante's 10th circle by having not been invented yet. It's a mall in Los Angeles, with a pointless trolley that travels less than 100 years and artificial grass; where 40 year-old women bring tiny dogs and tourists take pictures of the outside of the Gap. I often hold back the urge of tapping them on their shoulder and saying, "You know this is a mall, right?" It's a horribly shallow and unauthentic consumerist tar pit, and I love it.
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