When we were younger, we loved real things...
...things we could touch, taste, feel, hold in our hands.
But as we’ve grown, we watched the
life in our hands age and lose its youthful color.
We saw the grass began to show signs of drought, and it
horrified us. The panic in our head shouted that the lawn would just keep dying
unless we put down artificial turf.
Turf never dies, never loses its color…
Turf is exactly what you expect of it. Turf can never grow; that didn’t bother
us, though, because we found that turf is just so much easier to maintain.
We started surrounding ourselves with artificial until it
permeated every aspect of our lives. We’ve been told that artificial will makes
us happy, and now we want nothing else.
We drive artificial cars, blasting
artificial music that screams artificial lyrics. We only drink artificial
chemicals that dazzle us with their artificial colors and artificial energy. We
prefer artificial foods with artificial sugars to fill us with artificial life. We love our artificial girlfriend with her artificial waist, artificial blonde
hair, artificial white teeth and artificial lips. We buy her artificial jewelry
with our artificial money, and we hold hands in a display of artificial love
and artificial security.
We strut around
the artificial city with our artificial tans and tell ourselves
“Artificiality
has brought us our dreams.”
…But it hasn’t.
Deep down we can feel: it didn’t bring us
our dreams but changed what we dreamt of.
