I rushed into the room but to my suprise no one was there. It was compleatly empty and dead silent. "how odd" I thought to myself, "they should be here." I decided to stay and wait. So I sat down thinking "Someone will be here soon, they have to be" To pass the time I take out my book and begin to read,
New groups, whole families, kept arriving. He could see a change come over them as they had become part of the crowd. Until they reached the line, they looked diffemt, almost furitive, but the moment they had become part of it, they turned arrogant and pungnacious. It was a mistake to think them harmless curiosity seekers. They were savage amd bitter, especially the middle-aged and the old, and had been made so by boredom and disappoimtment.
All their lives they had slaved at some kind of dull, heavy labor, behind desks and counters, in the feilds and at tedious machines of all sorts, saving their pennies and dreaming of the leisure that would be theirs when they had enough. Finally that day came. They they could draw a weekly income of ten or fifteen dollars. Where else should they go but California, the land of sunshine and oranges?
Once there, they discover that sunshine isn't enough. They get tired of oranges, even of avacado pears and passion fruit. Nothing Happens. They don't know what to do with their time. they haven't the mental equipment for leisure, the money nor physical equipment for pleasure. Did they slave so long just to go to an occasional Iowa picnic? What else is there? They watch the waves come in at Venice. There wasn't any ocean where most of them came from, but after you've seen one wave, you've seen them all. The same is true of the airplanes at Glendale. If only a plane would crash once and a while so that they could watch the passengers being consumed in a "holocaust of flame," as the news papers put it. But planes never crash.
Their boredom becomes more and more terrible. They realize that they've been tricked and burn with resentment. Every day of their lives they read the newspaper and went to the movies. Both fed them on lynchings, murder, sex crimes, explosions, wrecks, love nests, fires, miracles, revolutions, wars. This daily diet made sophisticates of them. The sun is a joke. Oranges can't titillate their jaded palates. Nothing can ever be violent ehough to make taut their slack minds and bodies. They have been cheated and betrayed. They have slaved and saved for nothing.
I glance at my watch, "how long should I wait?" I no longer think they are going to show up. I've been stood up again. Every week I come here hoping they'll come and every week I'm dissapointed. I gather my things and stand up to leave. As I had to the door I turn off the light. the room is compleatly dark. a seemingly endless void. It's the kind of dark that gives you the chills. I walk out the door. "See you next week," I think to myself. The door shuts and I start the walk home in the cold damp winter air.
New groups, whole families, kept arriving. He could see a change come over them as they had become part of the crowd. Until they reached the line, they looked diffemt, almost furitive, but the moment they had become part of it, they turned arrogant and pungnacious. It was a mistake to think them harmless curiosity seekers. They were savage amd bitter, especially the middle-aged and the old, and had been made so by boredom and disappoimtment.
All their lives they had slaved at some kind of dull, heavy labor, behind desks and counters, in the feilds and at tedious machines of all sorts, saving their pennies and dreaming of the leisure that would be theirs when they had enough. Finally that day came. They they could draw a weekly income of ten or fifteen dollars. Where else should they go but California, the land of sunshine and oranges?
Once there, they discover that sunshine isn't enough. They get tired of oranges, even of avacado pears and passion fruit. Nothing Happens. They don't know what to do with their time. they haven't the mental equipment for leisure, the money nor physical equipment for pleasure. Did they slave so long just to go to an occasional Iowa picnic? What else is there? They watch the waves come in at Venice. There wasn't any ocean where most of them came from, but after you've seen one wave, you've seen them all. The same is true of the airplanes at Glendale. If only a plane would crash once and a while so that they could watch the passengers being consumed in a "holocaust of flame," as the news papers put it. But planes never crash.
Their boredom becomes more and more terrible. They realize that they've been tricked and burn with resentment. Every day of their lives they read the newspaper and went to the movies. Both fed them on lynchings, murder, sex crimes, explosions, wrecks, love nests, fires, miracles, revolutions, wars. This daily diet made sophisticates of them. The sun is a joke. Oranges can't titillate their jaded palates. Nothing can ever be violent ehough to make taut their slack minds and bodies. They have been cheated and betrayed. They have slaved and saved for nothing.
I glance at my watch, "how long should I wait?" I no longer think they are going to show up. I've been stood up again. Every week I come here hoping they'll come and every week I'm dissapointed. I gather my things and stand up to leave. As I had to the door I turn off the light. the room is compleatly dark. a seemingly endless void. It's the kind of dark that gives you the chills. I walk out the door. "See you next week," I think to myself. The door shuts and I start the walk home in the cold damp winter air.
VIEW 8 of 8 COMMENTS
you're right there. thing is, the interweb allows such people who would usually keep quiet and not annoy the world at large to say whatever they like with virtually no comeback. y'know, soul-baring confessional types who get all shocked and upset when someone they know happens to read the confessions. or super-fighty types who can dish it out online but can't take it.
common sense in what the interweb is and how to conduct oneself on it. interweb tests are the only way forward.