All the great themes have been used up and turned into theme parks

originally published on livejournal · abstractambush · April 20, 2007

listening Nancy Wilson - It's the Last Thing I Do

mood angry

Paranoia. No- justified concern."This is a dangerous game you're playing." The world has changed. We can't be as liberal as we'd like. The youth must exercise restraint, approach it all being circumspect. No more is it ad libitum, and man can afford to be impetuous no longer. The world has turned ugly, nature has turned malicious. Danger is in the guise of love. Malaise taking the shape of ephemeral pleasure. "Pokémon- gotta catch 'em all!" he says with contempt and I toss him a pokéball. It was sad, and we will still live.

It takes a certain mentality...and I'm not sure if it's necessarily a younger one, or a simpler one, or a more trivial one, but I don't possess it; I'm not sure if I ever could. Simply put: it isn't me. It's not my lifestyle. I'm cut out for more meaningful, more austere atmospheres. And yes, I feel that certain things are more of a debasment of human interaction. And I'm not sure if I'd necessarily call myself above it, but I'd definitely call myself entirely detached from it. I think I struggle to refrain from being judgmental in regards to it. I guess that's what makes me pretentious. But for whatever reason, I try not to be.

She's sitting at a bar, sipping a glass of cranberry juice when he approaches her.

"Hey," he greets smoothly, wearing a charming smile on his equally smooth, shaven face.

"Go away," she replies warily without looking up, "I'm not your type."

"How you be so sure, baby? What type are you?"

She glances up from her drink, eying him evenly and responds, "I'm brooding, self-involved, needy, and demanding." She takes the opportunity during his confused silence to add, "And I don't drink." She then turns back to her glass of juice, facing away from him.

"Why are you here then?" he asks, with gratuitous volume.

"I'm waiting for my newly-turned twenty-one year-old sister to finish getting wasted so I can cart her ass home," came her matter-of-fact response. "In fact, you should try your luck with her; she's likely so trashed right now that she has no standards or inhibitions. That sounds a bit more like your type, yeah? She's over there- go get 'er, tiger!" At this, she takes a sip from her glass and proceeds to ignore his further presence entirely.