dorkfysh's Diaryland Diary

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champagne wishes

I was wandering through Target and staring at all the things that are for sale. Sometimes when I am in the midst of all the color and flourescent lighting I have one of those Moscow on the Hudson moments. The one where Robin William's character has a total mental breakdown looking at all the fucking CHOICES.

"Coffee. Coffee. Coffee. COFFEE! AAAARGH!"

There is this illusion of freedom that most people swallow hook, line and sinker. The only thing we are free to do is buy whatever we want. Society is under the impression that you can buy your way into and out of everything.

Every day I see someone in shoes that are falling apart buying $20 worth of scratch tickets.

I watch TV and discuss with my daughter commercials that imply a woman will only love a man if he buys her diamonds and a man will only love a woman if her skin is free of any texture.

The secret to eternal happiness is good credit! white teeth! sculpted abs! a shiny new car! frozen waffles! a gigantic penis! boobs as big and round as cantaloupes! shampoo that makes you come!

I see The American Nightmare.

Cookie cutter house on a cul-de-sac. The development is called Mira Vista or Willow Glen. It is gated and sterile. Long lists of rules restricting any form of self-expression. Married. A couple of kids in expensive clothes with ulcers from being overwrought by activities. They go to school where they are censored and sold Coke and Taco Bell. They are told that they can be anything, but they need to shut up and sit down. Mom and Dad work for nameless-faceless corporations that devalue anything resembling family or community. They spend weekends at the mall buying the things that make them happy. The travel and buy pre-packaged experiences and secretly wish someone WOULD drop the bomb already. God will save them.

12:48 p.m. - February 10, 2003

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