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0 2 . 1 8 . 0 7Drive forty-five minutes in order to pay ten dollars to park so that you can walk nearly a mile just to get in and realize you have no idea why you're there or what exactly you'll do with your time spent there... Now, that, my friend, is fucking American. And that shit is wack.
0 2 . 1 7 . 0 7There's an edge to this reality, especially at this hour, that I can't quite put my finger on but can surely sense. Everything stands out from the background/backdrop in a weird shimmering metallic 3D glasses sort of way; there, but just out of reach.
I wonder if the wind is actually blowing through me, or if it merely feels as though it is.