I'm guilty.
I'm guilty for living the life I live, for having the things I have.
I'm as scared of global warming as most people, more than most people, probably.
But almost every day, you know, I get in a car, and I drive somewhere.
Somewhere that often is only a mile away from where I live.
I could get on my bike, put on my helmet, ride down there. Get a little sweaty. Would the world end?
Probably not.
But there's so much, I don't know, power in getting in a car and driving.
Sometimes I feel bad. Actually, most of the time.
At school...I don't drive at all. But I get in other people's cars and ride I guess. Which is better than me driving in circles by myself blasting music into oblivion I guess.
I guess. I guess.
I guess it's going to take the world starting to fall apart before I'll think that maybe I shouldn't waste things.

What I'm most guilty about though is how much pleasure I take out of sitting in the back seat of someone else's car with the music so loud you can't hear the people in the front seat and just looking out the window at the world. I love neon lights, streetlights, run-down buildings and trucks. I love seeing the world with that little edge of blur on it, where everything is moving, where everything has so much potential. When you get out of the car and go somewhere, some of the potential is realized and some of it isn't, it becomes limited. But in the car, it all can be anything I want it to be, or think it should be or could be or would be.

I think our world is ridiculously beautiful, even as parts of it are so, so ugly.
it's still beautiful.