Can you afford to plan? Do you have a family dog? Do you have a family? Do you qualify?
There’s that stubborn blue sky again. There’s that nauseating glitch of pulsating blue against green cream walls and burning terracotta roofs: a stolen foreign style for a permanent vacation. Why would you ever want to leave? You can have fun rearranging these shapes and colors. They can be mirrored, squashed or elongated. They can be put on that man-made hill or in that river-made valley. Both are made for us.
What did you put in that awkward nook in your house that looks just like my house? I’m confused. Your kitchen is in the wrong spot.
How many times have you painted the walls and rearranged the furniture? Is that your pill? Is your doctor your best friend?
Do you have a rulebook or an “understanding”?
Is yours natural? You shouldn’t disturb the sky with your lights. Or upset the earth with foreign plants. Or is it more traditional? Will you let your evergreen lawn yellow if you’re thirsty?
Why would you need sidewalks? Keep the adults in their cars, keep the kids off their bikes, off their feet, in their beds, on their phones.
Keep itineraries for your amenities. Do you have enough rooms for each person you know? Do you have enough people you know for each room you have? Do you have all the stores you need? All the entertainment you want? All the friends you approve?
What if you lose that weird thing in your weird nook, your kids go onto their own blue skies, your manicured greens grow to dust, your rulebooks and “understandings” are torn up, unsanctified outsiders descend upon you, your strict identity sloughs off, your dog eats the skins, your home is gone. What heaven is left? Can you bring everything with you?
Will you tell the flies what to do with the rest?