March 23rd, 2003

future, goddess, lady, fondness

Exploding Cheese - The Smarter Weapon

Trust any journey undertaken with my father to require at least an additional hour of time. Though it is true that this time we did not become lost in a cornfield, we did nearly make it to Wisconsin before a clue was got, directions asked, and we turned around.

The route we took passed through Gary, where it blends into Chicago, and the two - though once each separate, and though pride separates them by name still - become part of the same sprawl. Upon seeing this area, I have always felt a strange melancholy; a sadness of color, the ache felt by one who has not lived here, cannot imagine living here, and can only see from a distance. From a road which runs through, runs over, and rushes people who run along.

Church spires and telephone wires, factories stained with rust and wear. A gray sky hovers over a gray world. It seems that only billboards and casinos provide color here, where so many houses mingle in a state of dirt-laced decay. Everything - homes, factories, cars, roads, trees, the endless cheap franchises, the people whom I have never met and never will - all this seems to sag into itself, never escaping its fate, its perpetual cycle. We die a little every day and we try not to notice.