[this what i wrote in nvgoddess' journal in response to a thought she posed in her 4/15 entry, but it got too long & i didn't want to clutter up her page with my rambling, so i'm sticking it here]
when i was in high school i got a job at this brand new state-of-the-art mega-mall they just built in our area in a bookstore. one of my glamorous responsibilities was taking out the garbage. i was actually kind of stoked about this because - this is really dumb, but - as a kid, i'd always wondered how they took out the garbage at malls. because, like, the malls always struck me as so perfect and utopian. but i never saw any store emloyees hauling around mounds of smelly trash, even though, i figured, all those stores must produce shitloads of trash. where did it all go? did they keep it in the stores until closing?
so when i got this job, i finally learned that there was an extensive network of passageways behind all the stores that allowed people to take deliveries, take out the garbage, etc. i was fascenated by these passageways. they were like this other universe to me, this alter-mall, the mall's evil twin. as shoppers strolled amidst the sparkling lights and pristine storefronts, little did they know that right on the other side of the wall, another world existed, a world of dimly-lit, dry-walled catacombs where dwelled the garbage rats like me.
the passageways also seemed to defy any laws of time, space and dimesion. it seemed like i could walk for two minutes and open a door yet find myself clear on the other side of the mall and on a different floor. or, like, i could wander for what seemed like hours and open a door and find myself right next door to where i started.
even though the mall was less than a year old, the walls of these passageways were already caked in grafitti, every inch. i've always loved reading grafitti, and i used to waste tons of time on my garbage runs reading all of it that people had written back there. most of it was pretty much the usual stuff - you know, 'suck my dick,' 'i fucked so and so on such and such date,' etc. but one day i was wandering in a part of the passageways that i didn't normally find myself in, and i came across a piece of grafitti that totally blew me away, and it's remained etched in my memory ever since. it said:
intrinsically, this mall reflects our innermost soul:
a glimmering facade of superficiality
that conceals a maze of desolate corridors
i always think about that. that amidst all the venality & grubbiness & obscenity & stink and trash, someone out there that i will never know took the time to write those words that probably almost no one will ever read.
when i was in high school i got a job at this brand new state-of-the-art mega-mall they just built in our area in a bookstore. one of my glamorous responsibilities was taking out the garbage. i was actually kind of stoked about this because - this is really dumb, but - as a kid, i'd always wondered how they took out the garbage at malls. because, like, the malls always struck me as so perfect and utopian. but i never saw any store emloyees hauling around mounds of smelly trash, even though, i figured, all those stores must produce shitloads of trash. where did it all go? did they keep it in the stores until closing?
so when i got this job, i finally learned that there was an extensive network of passageways behind all the stores that allowed people to take deliveries, take out the garbage, etc. i was fascenated by these passageways. they were like this other universe to me, this alter-mall, the mall's evil twin. as shoppers strolled amidst the sparkling lights and pristine storefronts, little did they know that right on the other side of the wall, another world existed, a world of dimly-lit, dry-walled catacombs where dwelled the garbage rats like me.
the passageways also seemed to defy any laws of time, space and dimesion. it seemed like i could walk for two minutes and open a door yet find myself clear on the other side of the mall and on a different floor. or, like, i could wander for what seemed like hours and open a door and find myself right next door to where i started.
even though the mall was less than a year old, the walls of these passageways were already caked in grafitti, every inch. i've always loved reading grafitti, and i used to waste tons of time on my garbage runs reading all of it that people had written back there. most of it was pretty much the usual stuff - you know, 'suck my dick,' 'i fucked so and so on such and such date,' etc. but one day i was wandering in a part of the passageways that i didn't normally find myself in, and i came across a piece of grafitti that totally blew me away, and it's remained etched in my memory ever since. it said:
intrinsically, this mall reflects our innermost soul:
a glimmering facade of superficiality
that conceals a maze of desolate corridors
i always think about that. that amidst all the venality & grubbiness & obscenity & stink and trash, someone out there that i will never know took the time to write those words that probably almost no one will ever read.
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Cheers!