wake up!

It's been a week and a day.
The notion that somehow it was beneficial to see this place as one may have seen backwards america upon returning from a ten month tour in Vietnam, proved to be as self destructive as if it would have been that. Had I stayed on the road that leads nowhere, I am sure self destructive would be somewhere at the end, but not after a long stint in unproductive.

I opted for the advice of the murkey voice I heard rising up between the layers of dirt I have thrown over the coffin of my dead friend, sadness. Never was much of a friend, actually. Just an illusion.

The way I see it, this city is like a photograph. And through some strange occurance, I am able to not only look at the photograph, but walk through the streets in the picture. I don't feel the substance of actually being here, and that is good. I don't want to feel that again.

It is so much easier to know what I don't want. And I don't want drama.
And I don't want any of those voice overs that seem so senseless and have nothing to do with the story.
I don't want those filler scenes, that show all the characters doing things that make their lives seem like good ones.

Have you ever noticed that the majority of movies in the eighties had two or more scenes like this? Scenes where the characters of the film would ride around on golf carts or dance through the library, just to prove to the audience that their lives are fun? It's like watching a commercial for finding happiness.
'You'll find happiness if you ride golf carts with your Navy Seals buddies or get detention in school, or play volleyball and fly jets.'
Hollywood never seemed so manipulative. It's as apparent as selling beer and sex.

I just don't want drama.
I don't want to be one of the commercials, I want to continue with the show. Being here again does not mean I am on a commercial break, it means the show continues here, for now.

And I make that choice daily. Like dying.