The Self
We are in an age where all of my peers, everyone I know really, engages in themselves.
The age of the Self.
Everyone I know is selfish and concerned only with what they want. We all plug into our electronics and tune out the world, engaging in the acts of self-promotion, and though we find one another in bars and we relish those stolen moments of human companionship, when the morning arises and that last kiss leaves our lips, we realize that’s it, that’s all, there is no more human warmth or compassion. We’ve left it all behind in the heat of the night. We calmly and hurriedly embrace our cold electronics and continue on with our self aggrandizing acts.
The Playful Thief.
I sat there listening to live music as the small boy plied his trade among the foreigners. He hassled them, played with them and outsmarted their alcohol-leaden brains enough to solicit awes and oohs of appreciation. They veritably drowned him in gold and silver pieces.
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