And as the gas was filling the tank of my car, my eyes fell onto the logo of the car behind me. It was a Lexus SUV. And as I continued to wash the dusty windshield of my car, I noticed a white Mercedes temporarily parked next to the entrance of the mini-mart. And as I was processing the scene which somehow seemed unreal to me, my mouth, covered by a blue mask, opened itself, and words existed my lips: "I don't belong here."
I glanced over to my hybrid, which was given to me, as I have no business driving such a car given the ludicrous amount of money I earned over the past decade, I saw the hypocrisy of my existence. And while I enjoy the comforts, I don't seem to fit into them.
And as I drove to an organic supermarket and picked up a $4 bell pepper, which I will grow in my yard in a month for pennies, and walked down the aisle with a myriad of plastic bottles of various shapes and sizes, colors and emblems, I found myself standing within a reality that seemed nothing but real. Once again. A made-up reality of pretty things and containers neatly ordered, wastefully made to catch my eye. There was not a smile on a single face in the line formed amidst all the plastic and glass.
The disconnect was great. A material reality void of substance. No, I don't belong here. I will run for the hills.
