May 22, 2010
A city is a big place, let alone a country. The collective past has only a material impact. Underneath the high fashion, the exquisite facade, up the vintage elevator and inside the carved door, all of us sit in the same room. We listen to the same honk outside, breath in the same smog and watch the show, albeit dubbed. We all want the same girl. Want her to set our world afire. Sure, the accent is exotic, and her nipples are high. We are rich and she is beautiful, but these are just words. And Reality always trumps words.