The Mall

I went there. To the mall. I am not sure I'll be able to go again. Today, as I walked past the Santa with gin blossoms (is there a more pleasant sounding dangerous warning sign of alchoholism?) and watched a little kid sitting there before the flash, I saw the future of the picture. I've been thinking this way for awhile now, and I need to stop. Essentially what happens is that the photo flashes forward through time in my mind: displayed under blinking lights, cracked on the corner, in a drawer, under a newspaper, yellowed, cracked through the middle. And then it ends in some corner of a backyard with a chainlink fence. Lately, this is happening with people, but in both directions. I imagine the old folks spiraling back to cribs and the eight year olds growing stooped and cragged. Anyway, that's not why I am not sure if I can go back to the mall, and I love malls basically. It's that all the retail guys just freak me out now. They didn't use to. They all have to be so hungry and uncious. Anyway, all this rushing around of folks with scowls on their faces maybe because they hate shopping, or I don't know, it could be anything, but it all felt so sick and dangerous. I just wanted to hug them or go outside and lie down or watch 400 Blows , but I didn't.

My solution to the existential crisis was to buy a wireless card for the PC and a quilt. But I did get them both at places where no one asked me if I needed to buy anything.