Rough Years on Second Street: A Satire

 Years Leave Us
 Another rough year has come and reluctantly bitten the dust. We sit complacent, or, perhaps, angered. There is too much tension in our bones -- we sit sprung, ready to snap, compromised. We can barely meet eyes, mostly because I am insufferable. I pay for my mistakes often before I make them. The anger that wells inside needs an outlet. Where will it go? I hope it dissipates soon.

I lack patience with electronics. I will toss, throw, or break into shards any that come near me. I blame it on the Gremlins, but it is my own uneasy, impatient nature that fills the junkyards with instant rubble. My heart tells me no, but I break things anyway.

They say patience is a virtue, but that doesn't help us. We want it now, an instantaneous MTV generation gobbling up internet bandwidth. We can't stop; we eat cellphones for breakfast, overload mp3 players, trip every electronic switch into the red. Why you ask? Because we can.

Roughhousing the Environment

So we sit entranced with a life unlived. Our entertainment becomes our personality. Facebook becomes our religion. Inevitably, we fade out like a breaking picture tube, too bored and wired to move.


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