Reality

My version of entertainment is not watching a family fight.
It is not watching a man's life fall apart.
It is not watching a girl flip over a table
Not is it watching a girl get punched in the face.
Maybe I was born in the wrong time period,
perhaps I'm just surrounded by the wrong people,
but I'd rather not watch a friendship be torn to bits
but strangely my own friends are salivating at the screen.
Perhaps they're trying to tell me something with that.
They love the violence and the yelling but mostly the drama
and boy does it pain me when it carries into the real world.
They were born right when they were meant to be.
Maybe I should have been born when Gutenberg was,
perhaps I could have been a noblewomen,
reading noble works and doing noble things.
Instead I'm just trying to stop my friends
from mimicking what they saw on last nights episode
of the Desperate Housewives of Who Gives a Damn.
Apparently, they give a damn, even though they don't know them.
They've never spoken to them, never seen them
except when they come on the boob tube.
And yet they act like they have real relationships with them,
as if they truly know they're personality.
What becomes worse is when the personality rubs off.
Have you ever seen a high school overrun by Orange County housewives?
Because I see it until the Atlanta season premieres.
Suddenly I'm the only one in my New Jersey high school
not speaking with a full fledged southern accent.

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