THE HORROR…THE HORROR
Joe is drinking Pilsener in his hospital room in Quito, trying to figure out where it all went wrong.
Honestly, alot of time I’m thinking all this stuff is just trauma from the whole fucked up New York mentality that is so hard to shake. As I’ve said before about New York
There are very clear ‘winners’
And very clear ‘losers’.
Believe me, there is no doubt about what side you’re on.
None at all.
I throw down another big gulp of Pilsener, and fart.
Aahh…
I mean, in so many ways, you can never win in New York. Never has a city promised so much - and in the end delivered so little. Hyper capitalism. Especially since the 90’s, man.
Yeah. Invasion of the trust fund kids and Wall St. Yuppies. Chads and Brads. Daddy’s credit card. Much of the time, the Chads are flaunting these exotic international women on their arms - as they stroll into the current ‘fabulous’ club dujour and order bottle service.
Bottle service.
$300 for a fuckin’ bottle of Grey Goose to be poured for you?
$300!?
Get the fuck outta here!
How am I supposed to compete with that kind of shit, huh? I can’t, that’s what.
So, you breed all these horrible conflicts in your head. One part of you secretly longs to be one of these guys (successful?) while the other part of your brain finds them to be pretentious assholes. You go back and forth with it - and it kills you.
You burn with defiance and ambition.
You wanna create some art piece so magnificent that…that…you can’t possibly be denied. So, in my case, at least, you go on spending months - or even years - creating a one man show that tours the city to great acclaim!
You’re so ready for your turn.
You’ve had tunnel vision - like a monk - this is all you care about!
Then 9/11 happens.
Or some other such disaster.
Finished.
Mind snapped.
You’re just incredulous.
Taking the bottle of Peppermint Schnapps you’ve been saving to celebrate - you go back to your overpriced closet in Queens - and down it by yourself.
The end.
I peer out the window into the dark, rainy Quito night. Ughh… no escape. Well, only one thing to do now. I pull out my Sony Discman from the nightstand drawer. I position myself to sit and meditate. It’s the only thing that makes any sense to me anymore. I need those beta waves, man!
