On the City Pattern Project: The Sadness of Conviction


In which The Gay Recluse is still morose.

Today we felt so completely trapped.

By our neighborhood, our job, our possessions.

Oh and our stupid country.

Our life felt completely artless.

But then we came home and watched The Hills.

And played with the cats.

Soon we’ll go to bed.

We wonder what it would be like to really believe.

LIke what do Sarah Palin or John McCain think about in those last seconds before they lose consciousness and drift off to sleep?

Are they too filled with doubts and longings?

Or do they think: I am really something special. In fact, everyone should be just like me!

Or perhaps: What are we going to do about all the homosexuals?

But as much as we tend to hate our life, we are grateful to learn about the McCains and the Palins.

And realize it could be so much worse.

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