orlando, florida
thanksgiving day, 2023

i am currently sitting in a hotel room at a resort in Orlando, Florida, and I am not doing as well as I should. of course, i know i am privileged to be in a position like this one, but there is something so disgusting about this place that is making me cry.

Florida is the epicenter of modern wealth; excessive, braindead, and depressingly beautiful. i look out my window and i see a beautiful sunset, and i see an ampitheatre. i see giant streetlights. i hear Lana Del Ray remixes and I hear children with more happiness than i'll ever have laughing and running. I worry of what will come of these children when they are older. will they become the people i despise now? will they become strung out like myself? will they come here again, and relive those memories with a woman by their side, full of plastic and prozac?

i will not have fun here, as a general protest i suppose. but what good is that doing? what good am i? i am doing nothing to prevent or allow this type of behavior, this type of structure. i am just a child who thinks too much, who should be happy and content, but i'll never be happy or content until i'm stripped of my worries and earthly posessions. until i am rotting outside a 7/11, bumming for cigarettes, bumming for spare coke.

-- > i want to go back home < --