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         It seems to me that many people from my generation are lacking in originality. It’s hard to be creative these days; especially when all you could ever want can be delivered to your door step with a click of a few buttons. You can even decide how fast you want it shipped.

         These items are all material, of course. Or vice related, I suppose. The truth is that what really matters in life still remains absent from the core of our free market, trend-shitting lifestyles. What I’m saying is that you still can’t buy love – and I don’t see that changing anytime soon. Is it possible to buy love? You can buy all the fucking you can handle, but you still can’t buy that mutual feeling of being entwined in someone’s body. Feeling their warm spot, hot on yours. And smiling, knowing they are smiling – even when the room is dark and the shades are pulled. You still cannot buy that smell of your lover’s hair. It may be possible to buy the same perfume, but would it really be the same? I would like to meet the man who successfully buys that horrendous morning breath you smell exhaling from the one you love. Even though the stench may make your eyes water, you see her eyes and understand that it happens to everyone. Instead of griping, you match your breathing to hers. Or, so when she exhales you exhale and when she inhales, you inhale. And so on and so forth. It’s this compromise, and the feelings surrounding this compromise, that will never be bought, sold, traded, or bartered.