Zap, zap, zap. Another soap, another sitcom, the same lousy movie or some crappy pop video. One more sport event. Another ringtone. Another news flash about how fucked up things are in Middle East, how many forests are burning, how many glaciers are melting at this very moment. So many things requiring our attention at the same time, all with the purpose of feeding our ego with vague promises. Whatever. I turn the TV off. I rip the fuckin' chord.
My hamster is in its cage, running inside its wheel. I have put it next to the window, but it seems to never pay any attention to the sights. The sights of the glass jungle. The sight of tiny matchboxes, all lit, each one representing at least one soul burning.
I decide to roam the streets. The neon avenues ramify like an octopus, spreading its tentacles. The shiny megalopolis nearly engulfs the suburbs, like an overflowing river. A profusion of scents emanates from every orifice, open door or window, every man or woman. A big, constant rumble echoes in the air, as I hear the speech of tongues, car horns and sirens, laughs and cries. Next, the bus. The rail. The subway train. Sudoku, newspapers, mp3 players, handheld game consoles. No one is talking.
Remember when I told you I dreamed of going to the other side of the world? Well, I just got us three tickets to paradise...You, me and my hamster...
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