Fearless and Loathing in Las Vegas.

The tragedy of life is the brick layer, who spends their years building beautiful towers of luxury and prestige. Watching as it rises higher and higher by the work of their hand. Once finished, only to resent such a structure, built up to cater to the luxurious and prestige's.

We elevate individuals to the status of celebrity, because in doing so, we fabricate something to admire, because in our own daily lives we fail to see it in what we already have. We see fame and fortune as capital forms of living. A standard that ensures ease and happiness. We adore their clothing, cars, and self-care. We pine for a chance to take a selfie. To capture ourselves right next to a being we have come to believe is god-like. We stare at this photo, send it to friends, post it to social media, and describe what the interaction was like, as if we had shaken hands with an extraterrestrial. We build them up in our minds as superior beings.

Brick by brick.

We fabricate worlds of conspiracy and malice, because we are too afraid that what is, simply, is what is. We self-medicate and write daily auto-biographies, wherein we are destined to fail. We drink, we smoke, we gamble, we pray, we deny. We build prisons around ourselves, and then blame the world around us for putting us in it. Too afraid to accept the mess we have made, we blame the sun for our sunburn. We blame pop-stars for the performance of our sports teams. Presidents for our apathy. Neighbors for our fence.

Brick by brick.

We rant on the internet, while our children laugh in the yard. We devour content. We gorge ourselves of it. We get drunk, and drive reckless through our relationships while we throw up the ideologies of others. We are too afraid to be sober in our own thoughts. We point, we pontificate, we share, we like, we comment, faceless behind our devices. We wait for the next great celebrity couple to be the reason our life is in shambles. We gather the theories. We get angry at our kids for being outside. We blame the refs for the price of milk. We create reasons for our problems, using no reason at all. We loathe happiness in others, as we are too afraid to seek it for ourselves. We fear the fearless.

Brick by brick.