Friends

welcome to Boca: the palm trees are dripping with freshly painted, acrylic frawns and the ground is shining with mirrors and with lotion. it’s inhabitants are blazed, hopped up, starving, and wealthy. they are not powerful, they are not intelligent, and they are not important. a false sense of importance, however, does loom over the city. the clouds are mixes of water and champagne, because every person feels as though they deserve applause for simply surviving. barely human, those who live here are “better off than most, but not better than anyone”. barely human, bones are prized and silicone exists more than flesh. air is not inhaled, toxic fumes ridden with arrogance and ignorance are. food is forbidden, adultery is encouraged, and secrets are the game. no one wins, no one excels, because everyone dies. and the only thing that lives on is the debt created and the lives wasted.

that’s life. two simple words strung together that can mean so much and so little. we are dealt the hands we are dealt out of luck, chance, and out of nature. chances come and go, but the ones you will regret are the ones you didn’t take. regrets don’t last forever, unless you regret never knowing what happened. you can always undo a mistake, no matter how grand, this is true. but some have lasting effects, not on he who made the mistake, but on he who was affected by the mistake. we tend to trample over each other in order to reach the finish line, but what’s past the line? an empty crowd. an empty crowd that will walk away after the shock value is gone and the congratulations are said. no one really cares whether you win or lose, succeed or fail, drown or float. no one really cares how you wear your hair, what drugs you do, or what your gpa is. the truth of the matter is, “this is your life, and it’s ending one minute at a time.”