I see him everyday.  He built the roads, with dreams of toll booths dancing in his head.  At the dentist’s office, he silently demands my copay.  He wants me to get a swine flu shot, wants me to believe that I might not make it past the winter.  But I might not.  Will I?  What if he is right?  After all, he has been around longer.  He does know more than me.  He’s simply asking for a small exchange for my well being for his own advancement.  Do I trust his intentions?  I have no choice.  There’s an abundance of choice.  Whatever, wherever I choose, he is there.  He sells both the leather and leopard iPhone covers.  He sells the leather leopard iPhone cover.  He sells the iPhone.  He sells me cheeseburgers and cholesterol medicine.  As the weather gets colder, he wants to me travel to Jamaica, buy insurance for the trip, buy new luggage on the way, upgrade my room and buy gifts while I am there, bring him one back.  He loves gifts.  He loves when I go to Jamaica.  He wants me to spend.  He wants me to save.  He wants me to save so that others can spend, in some long formula that no one truly understands.  He understands.  I see him when I pay my bills.  I hear him when the sirens wail.  Maybe he is saving someone, so they can continue paying real estate taxes, not death taxes – whatever is more.  He is always someone else to everyone. Like hell, each vision is customized with its dead-aunt rooms, the yellow bird wallpaper peeling away to show the previous owner’s decorative intentions, and on and on and on.  And still, no matter how many times the wallpaper changes, and no matter how many times you pass it down to your children, in the end, he owns the house.

Everywhere and Always - There is No Escape4.356

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