The Tab I Left Open
The mirror is the same mirror. It just got bigger and faster, and the people angling it aren't elected and can't be voted out. I'm still here, paying attention, barefoot in the grass. That has to count for something.
Bloosh
The tchotchkes you loved until you had more than shelves. The next thing you need to finally feel like you have it together. The small businesses disappearing, bought out or priced out, replaced by something shinier and emptier. The machine doesn't hate you. It just needs you wanting. Bloosh is me noticing the machine from the inside, because I live here too and I can't always tell where my desires end and the marketing begins.
