So I live in a pretty nice area. At least nice enough to become disillusioning.
Buildings pop up here like wildflowers, in an area once known for its fertile agricultural pastures. I guess South Park was right when they said gentrification always begins with a whole foods, because after that motherfucker sprouted up, overpriced strip malls grew began around it like lecherous vines.
Now I’m a big fan of the city, and an urban sprawl into nightlife wouldn’t normally seem so bad to me. That is, until you see the insipid tease of a “scene” they have here in suburbia. I went bar hopping the other day around one of the premier locations of northern Virginia, and all who were in attendance consisted of overdressed Persian dudes and fat chicks. I’d rather go back to the collegetown I just graduated from, in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, and live out my days as a townie.
We spraypaint the fucking grass green here. You know how much seeing something like that messes with your moral compass? We fucked Mother Nature up so badly, that we decided to apply a little paint to conceal the damage.
What’s Next? You’re gonna tell me we dye the ponds blue too?
This whole things really puts some perspective towards the whole “The grass is always greener” phrase. Now I’m more fixated on the hue of paint.