The Week in My World 6-29-11
My disillusionment with Arizona has left me uninterested in photographing local sights. I see the town differently now, and there’s nothing I can do about it. I’m trying. I want to love it. But I feel like one does when you’re on the verge of breaking up with someone and all the eccentric behaviors you thought were cute now annoy the shit out of you. I hope to get over this and stick out the relationship, but that tactic has never worked for me before.
None of the “We Buy Ugly Houses” companies will return my calls or e-mails, and who can blame them. Knowing what I know now, I wouldn’t buy a house here either. I wish the people who wrote to accuse me of racism regarding who started the Monument fire would come down here. I don’t hold it against them though—they remind me of myself when I was a young douchebag. As Henry David Thoreau once said, “some circumstantial evidence is very strong, as when you find a trout in the milk.” If this fire was caused by a smoking rattlesnake or some insane hiker walking through Smuggler’s Gulch, I’ll eat my cheap designer rip-off Stetson. No one, and I mean no one, is allowed to discuss the cause of the fire unless you’re in a soundproof cell with a close friend and you’ve both signed a non-aggression treaty. And that’s what is so depressing. We’re sanitized. Impotent.
So I have no whimsical pictures or quirky anecdotes to share of my home this week. A muzzle has been slapped on my Arizona muse.