Both times I visited the gas stations this week had something in common: “Far Behind” by Candlebox blaring thru the station’s audio system. How odd. The air is thick with the smell of 90s flannel angst.
Several days per week, I drive through Georgetown, DC.
The view driving over key bridge is breathtaking: a combination of old buildings and unmistakeable youth, vibrating down M Street.
I drive by the pedestrians, who walk the streets like elitist soldiers. Many are students from Georgetown University; well-dressed in designer apparell, the young professionals and couples stroll along the sidewalk. Everyone seems so ‘set,’ so relaxed and unworried.
That’s money for ya.
I feel disgusted.
I am captivated by their sureness
They are young & strong
Insured by trust funds and good genetics
and sponsored by the “best,”
accustomed to the finer things,
will never see the other side.
They are beautiful.
I curse them all some days. Especially the athletic ones riding their bicycles in the middle of the road.
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