Those Summer Nights

August 18, 2015:

I sit here baffled, listless as the calm sea breeze caresses me head to toe. In the distance, the soothing touch of the Atlantic is the only sound for miles, muffling any foreign noises from other curious onlookers. This sanctuary is something we all share. Nature, that is. It’s just one entity we cannot dream without. Yet most see its beauty, but what about the rest of it? A quarter after 7, I was driving my Camry out of that weekly date with the local shrink, only to witness the potholes filled with the refuse of 10 or more. Two miles up the road, an receptacle waits to be put to use. I guess you’re probably thinking how relevant this is to your life, right? I may not know the answer, but all I feel is the everlasting damage we’re causing to this breathing organism. I believe that our apathy towards our world will drive us further away from what we supposedly want to preserve.  These captivating sights will be left in our virtual worlds of Instagram followed by an x-pro II for enhanced make up. Back to that receptacle though. Even when the refuse makes it in, where does that go?  Some landfill. That same landfill, built upon years of our negligent destruction, decomposing within our soil. Some will be let free to emulsify with the elements, destroy the same ecosystem that has seen our smiles, struggles, heartaches and heartfelt moments. All of that for a Kit Kat wrapper and a 72 oz Big Gulp. This is the cause of my heartache, the fire that fuels my despair, but man, this sure is captivating. I can see the bourgeoisie’s yachts. Little fireflies with the black sea bed reflecting off their energy. Small blips in the sky with curious passengers admiring the bright lights down below. Damn. All from one summer night.


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