When Your Life Becomes News It’s Miserable
I never wanted to be some scribe of collapse, least of all for my own country
Ikeep opening browser tabs like tabs of Xanax. I do it for sedation but I just end up more aggravated. Everything is shit, everywhere. Reading anything is like fiddling with a canker sore. Checking if the pain is still there. It is.
The worst is when the news spills out of the browser. I can see it in the eyes of everyone on the street. I hear it when I talk to the security guard, who’s still making $4 a day while the cost of food has tripled. He’s got two kids at home. I’ll bring them something tomorrow. The whole fucking country has collapsed. It’s not news, it’s life. It’s eminently, terribly visible.
I sit down at the bus stand and the same homeless lady is still there from yesterday. She says she hasn’t eaten dinner and asks for a coffee. I go get her some coffee and short eats and we talk. She tells me about the President and his American family doing fine which is true. She asks about the protestors and I say they’re good people. She asks me how many are demons and I say I dunno, 20%. I don’t even think demons are bad. It’s economists I’m worried about. I let a few buses pass but eventually I’ve got to go.
