Gentle Indifference
It’s not real life, but it sure is close. He stood in front of the city of computer monitors, AV cords, and TV screens and his mouth felt dry. Turning his attention to the presidential debate on channel four, he crushed his cigarette out on the linoleum with his wal*mart keds and wondered what he should do next. That is the idea, right? Do something. Usually that something has to do with work, love, friends, and looking good for work, love, and friends, so that meant to him that he might have to buy something, and he hated shopping. He hated things. But something on channel 9 told him that he had to own the next cardigan from old navy and something on channel 24 told him that being funny to his friends was priceless, and nobody said it wouldn’t make him immortal, but they sure suggested it. The discovery channel made him feel like he should see the world, while home and gardens displayed a happy couple with a big house and a big…fridge. He needed a job for a plane ticket and a big fridge.
What was he supposed to do? He turned to the newest Dell for help. With that computer he could…what? Even if he knew what it was that he was supposed to be doing, he wouldn’t know why. The “big why” is never talked about on good morning America, and it is never, ever addressed on the history channel. The history channel is off limits to questions like that because history is filled with humanity cramming circle shaped answers into square shaped voids. Even if we were to get that answer into there with all of our technological improvements, the answer would just disappear with memory or other problems.
Nothing felt original here, because everything (even though it came in hyper-massive, bloated amounts) was presented in a way that was supposed to make him feel better. No one ever, ever addressed what he was supposed to feel better about. His boring life? His lack of luck with the ladies? His parental issues? The fact that he was going to die? He felt death was an inevitable, if not opt able, conclusion.
The blinking, flashing, pulsing, blackness of the city of technology distracted him. All at once, he felt attacked and bombarded by commercials; commercials about lawn care, hemorrhoid cream, make up, job searches, and wedding dresses. No wonder people get complexes. There was so much suggestion for improvement in these commercials that he began to think there was something he should feel insecure about.
And then there was nothing he could do, or at least nothing he wanted to do. He walked out of the grimy green and white store with its fluorescent lights that didn’t work He stepped out into the street and noticed that the overcast weather was clearing right where the sun was setting, and watched the first sun set he had seen in a long time. His mind cleared a little bit when a breeze came by and he moved on with the simple, gentle indifference of the world.