I wasn’t always like this. Neither was the landscape. The only decent thing I ever inherited from my father was his recklessness. To say I am a complete and utter failure just doesn’t cut it. I don’t know why, but it seems I’ve basically failed at everything I’ve ever attempted in my short quarter of a century here on this wasteland -- though really I’ve never actually touched it, so I guess I should say above it. I vaguely remember learning about plants and wildlife back when I was in grade school, but those are nothing more than pure fables. Pages out of tattered, unread grade school books. I imagine flora and fauna are just as useful as books are now in the digiascopic age. Hardly anyone around actually remembers those days, and the government’s internal reprogramming is partially to thank for that. So is our grandparents’ reckless abandon for anything natural. But it’s all the better now, because without all their consumption and innovation, we wouldn’t have half the technology we do now. The early 2000s were kind of like this century’s industrial revolution, but I think school disks are starting to refer to it as the technological revolution. The next best thing since the Internet. We’re soooo much better off now, aren’t we? Actually, I shouldn’t pass judgment, no matter how dripping with sarcasm it is, because I know of nothing else. Nor can I provide any better solutions.
All I do know is that I live meters above the rest of the world. Gases are trapped underneath the earth’s ozone, creating the most beautiful sunsets and sunrises you’ve ever had the chance to experience. Except, it’s not luck, it’s a daily occurrence. And it’s slowly killing us. But who cares, what do we need to protect? The earth and sun will collide in the future anyways and we’ve already sent people to Mars and then Venus on exploration missions to search for alternative housing units. My point is, why should I take care of the world for my children, when it’s on its own irreversible self-destructive course anyhow? We’re just speeding up the inevitable, that’s all.
That and the idea of me ever procreating is laughable.
Today is an especially stifling day. Digital winters may exist only in virtual reality, but here on Earth -- if you want to call the permanent high-rises soaring up in the clouds on Earth – it’s nothing but ongoing summer and excess heat. I hear there’s a public works program in process calling for each person to install at least one plant in their living pod, so that way we can assure more “natural” oxygen. That I don’t understand, seeing as how every living tree was destroyed decades ago, when we thought we could manufacture portable oxygen tanks. That idea was another passing trend in the 20s -- a decade not too many of us are very proud of. Too much silver and ridiculously short hair, gross. I shudder just thinking back to my yearbook photos.
But more about me. I do have that natural second X chromosome, so it goes without saying that I'm my own favorite subject.
Just like everyone else, I too gave up on caring about anything. I used to be normal and full of optimism, but that was before life completely fucked me over. Talk about pathetic, I’m probably the only living person who can tell you she unsuccessfully tried to be bulimic and commit suicide. Two different life-altering or –ending undertakings I just wasn’t cut out for. Maybe it’s better this way, though I feel like I’m still mindlessly carrying on until my eventual demise. It’s not like I’m making any great strides for humanity. Really, the world is a better place without many of us. Sometimes, I feel as if I’m just another unneeded body producing more carbon dioxide, which we already have eight times too much of anyways.
Love has never gone the way I’ve wanted it to. But then again, I wonder if it has for anyone. I even tried that intra-virtual dating thing, but I kept getting mental calls all hours of the day, disturbing my work and sleep patterns for that matter.
Try to imagine whether or not you'd be able to restrain yourself after reading the lines, "Foxy 25 YO Blonde Female Seeking Equally Un-invested Weekend Companion." So I logged myself out of it. And I’m still a bit embarrassed about ever having signed up, but my name will always be burned on the internal subscription list. A kind of virtual leprosy if you will. Whatever, I’ve got better things to worry about.
Like what to wear tonight?
I don’t know how long it’s been since I’ve had an actual date, so I’m trying to play it cool here. However, I can’t because my heart is thumping beyond reasonable control. Why do I even bother anyways? Do I really want to invest in a night that probably will end up excruciatingly awkward? Then how long will it be before we play stupid back and forth games, mimicking interest when we’re both interested in one thing and one thing only. And then when it gets long and drawn out, one of us – most likely myself – will get far too attached for his or her own well-being. Then someone’s heart will be shattered in a thousand tiny slivers, but not like it hasn’t already endured that numerous times before.
Ah what the hell. At least I’ll get a free dinner out of it, and possibly some interesting stories for the girls at work tomorrow.
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