We went from the ramp 10 Business Loop, one of them are service road route that will guide you through the picturesque towns of America says interior ramp. Main Street America, here you get to hear about from time to time, without details. What would have happened if, next to the main street of the road, but is now off the main road.
With all the talk of Main Street and Wall Street, somewhere in mind, I thought it was both. Main Street is a dream and not very good. A myth shattered windows and abandoned stores. The cracked asphalt sprout weeds, flanked by a large part of the devastation gas station. Sometimes dinner is about life, dirty and neglected. Inhabited by the customers dirty and neglected to identify or toothless tattooed unfortunate that they are no longer neglected their dinner dirty. The fire in the kitchen is a cold fire, the fire in his eyes, about to twinkle on.
Then I thought I saw people in the cabin next door, the pale man, the tattooed woman with her breasts hanging or simply a reflection of my own dreams, the desire to Main Street? Why the lights were so cold, fluorescent and lifeless, airless smile, eyes flat all around me, the lips is not completely closed, not completely separated?
The journalist, lit with their perfect skin, flawless, tattoo-less, lights that mimic the sun, do not live here, or even to travel here. They talk about places they have never seen, the places they have never read the words she never thought of screens under the eye of the camera. Speaking of the sob story of obesity and smoking and small dogs, one wonders, and lottery winner, redemption, and millionaires.
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