Monday, April 17, 2006

now, this is a strange one

I felt compelled to recall this day from a few weeks ago. A friend and I were out in the middle of the day, when we should have been working, driving around the desert behind our decrepit little city mostly in search of escape from the everyday bullshit we tolerate for pathetic reasons we usually won't admit to. We tried to appreciate the beauty of nature in the hills and the crows and the horses that have long since been pushed from their homes due to structual differences. The sun peeked and hid, the winds kicked up as if to remind us that we were still at home. Random off-road motorists reminded us that we weren't alone no matter how much we wanted to be.
Then, as we meandered further into nothingness, we came to this spot quite obviously tainted by the apathetic bottom feeders of our less than perfect society. I asked him to stop so I could write down everything I found, that maybe later it would turn into something. (We writers are strange cats with not so obvious methods of madness, but I digress). Here's the list:

a garden hose cut into several almost equal pieces
rusted and crusted coffee cans, too many to count
a rug, pattern undiscernible
chopped up, burnt up fragments of cars
water bottles, empty
large white paint bucket, questionable residue inside
half of a corvette
an oil can
two broken window fans
a wig, wtf?
and a dress, a really ugly dress
a squeezed out tube of vinyl adhesive
dish rack
fishing hat
2 pairs of slacks
less than most of a broken bbq
a couch, maybe sofa, not really sure
jack daniels collector can, not worth salvaging
a shave kit
and a whole bunch of too-disgusting-to-mention whatnots

Okay, so what was the point of making this a point, you ask. Honestly I don't know. It seemed noteworthy at the time. As I said, maybe it would spark a future writing project. It didn't. Unless you count this. One lame list of garbage tossed in disregard to the inhabitants of the land by crackheads and criminals.

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