100 Children, 16 to 19 Years of Age
Utopia, for me, goes a little something like this:
A 3,000 square foot apartment, filled with hot tubs, drugs, alcohol, and ample bedding. The ceilings are impossibly high, the sheets have a thread count of 2,000, the carpet is cushioned, long, and shaggy. Every furnishing, accessory, and strand of the interior is bleached the whitest of the whites and lighted so brightly that shadows are an impossibility. The temperature is kept at a constant of 74 degrees Fahrenheit.
Locked inside this apartment are 100 boys and girls, 16 to 19 years of age. Pastel cotton undergarments are the maximum amount of clothing allowed. Touching is encouraged. They are fed only candy.
Imagine the innocence that runs wild over every fiber and molecule of this place's existence! The memories that are made and forgotten and recreated again every day and night! Imagine the love that flowers and blossoms!
Oh, and every corner of this apartment is kept under constant video surveilence and broadcast into the apartment next door. Into the apartment where the children of this experiment are moved after they graduate from their teens to the age of twenty. Where they must dwell for the rest of their lives.
This apartment is structured similarly to its neighbor, but without the hot tubs, drugs, and alcohol. The floor is cement, and everything inside is grey. The greyest of greys. Everyone must wear the same, three piece black and white suit everyday. Touching is prohibited.
Oh, to be young again! Oh, to taste the candy! Oh, to touch!
If only...
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
(American Apparel is totally creepy!)
A 3,000 square foot apartment, filled with hot tubs, drugs, alcohol, and ample bedding. The ceilings are impossibly high, the sheets have a thread count of 2,000, the carpet is cushioned, long, and shaggy. Every furnishing, accessory, and strand of the interior is bleached the whitest of the whites and lighted so brightly that shadows are an impossibility. The temperature is kept at a constant of 74 degrees Fahrenheit.
Locked inside this apartment are 100 boys and girls, 16 to 19 years of age. Pastel cotton undergarments are the maximum amount of clothing allowed. Touching is encouraged. They are fed only candy.
Imagine the innocence that runs wild over every fiber and molecule of this place's existence! The memories that are made and forgotten and recreated again every day and night! Imagine the love that flowers and blossoms!
Oh, and every corner of this apartment is kept under constant video surveilence and broadcast into the apartment next door. Into the apartment where the children of this experiment are moved after they graduate from their teens to the age of twenty. Where they must dwell for the rest of their lives.
This apartment is structured similarly to its neighbor, but without the hot tubs, drugs, and alcohol. The floor is cement, and everything inside is grey. The greyest of greys. Everyone must wear the same, three piece black and white suit everyday. Touching is prohibited.
Oh, to be young again! Oh, to taste the candy! Oh, to touch!
If only...
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
(American Apparel is totally creepy!)
posted by BLOOD AMBITION 2008 at 1:39 AM
5 Comments:
i like your stories ben lee.
Ah Ben... To touch... haha, that's evil though, to give someone everything and then take it away, forever... evil.
American Apparel is awesome... and that's why The Blood Arm's shirts ARE from American Apparel!
We of the TBA posse agree that creepy can be okay when it's made by sweatshop free labor in Downtown Los Angeles, I guess. Also acceptably creepy: Zebastian.
-Ben Lee
Isn't this the plot of a Passolini film?
Zebastian is creepy!
I bet you didn't remember your shirts came from AA. :-) That's what I'm here for.
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