We Lie to Ourselves to Survive the Dystopian American Life
We live in denial because it’s easier than facing our reality — for now.
There’s a brick wall around my high school. It wasn’t there in the 90s, but school shootings weren’t as prevalent then. I wonder if anyone realizes walls keep people in and out, and they won’t protect us from a broken society because we are the cracks within the foundation, but I already know the answer. Everyone knows our quality of life has decreased over the last thirty years, but not everyone accepts it.
My brother’s neighbor chose to end his life rather than face $20,000 in back-rent, and that’s only one of many Covid induced debt suicides. Oxycontin victims and mental health survivors scream at the godless streets, and Los Angeles County provides porta-potties for the families living in trailers hitched to SUVs. Meanwhile, women in their fifties walking their dogs and belongings search for a place to sleep along the crowded sidewalks.
Homeless camps decorate the streets as far as the eye can see, but there isn’t a housing shortage. Los Angeles’ sprawl expands to the hills occupied by coyotes, foxes, and mountain lions. The lack of habitat forces the displaced animals to roam the city’s streets, but the construction of the overly priced, fire and mudslide-prone dwellings…
