Today as I disembarked the shuttle of misery better known as the 25, I noticed a difference about Zone 1. An uneasy yet defiant sense of blankness was present on every face. Life here was far less intelligent than I’d remembered. My first sighting was through a shop window of a mother precariously ignoring her child, whilst shopping for a thong to replace the one I could see through her leggings. Then there was the Holister shop, so damn hipster it doesn’t have a fucking sign above the door. Instead the sign is at floor level, where only a simply idiotic person would look for it.
Next stop was KFC, where the awful, stale taste of my gravy mirrored my mood and current outlook on civilisation. Here I heard many languages differing from my own, none of which I recognised. Upon leaving KFC I was deafened by ever loudening bass. The kind of bass that could break glass and interfere with the operation of your brain. No one else around me seemed to be bothered by the bass, this was when I began to realise I differed to ‘the others’.
I wouldn’t say it was a cold day, but it certainly wasn’t ice cream on the beach weather. Still I noticed around me many women in attire that I would mentally relate to a rave in Ibiza, heading for the Green zone, or Castle Park. It seems they were being drawn in by the bass, the mind controlling bass. Still, I just remained irritated by it. It also seems drinking cans of Stella whilst walking through a shopping area is now the norm, if Zone 1 could have a norm. People everywhere drinking from cans, or coke bottles containing anything but coke. All of them heading towards the bass.
Wherever I looked I was surrounded by people with green hair, or people wearing double denim – when the fuck did that come back in? Then I walked past the zoo, sponsored by Primark. This was the point I actually stopped looking at the different people, and started looking for the normal ones. Then I realised that this was now normal for Zone 1, the infection has taken over. I am the odd one out and the future of the city I once loved is now hipsters, street drinkers and mind controlling bass.
I tried to use the Internet on my phone to find out where the bass was coming from, but I couldn’t. 3G no longer seems to be a viable option for communication, the bars were present but no data received. In Zone 1 it’s ‘The Cloud’ or no outside communication. My data is forced through ‘the system’ so the perpetrators can see what I want, and then set the bass to my wavelength.
I made my way through the demolition sites on Rupert Street to the city centre. Here Zone 1 was being taken over by bubbles, emitted from the fountains they attracted families for whom the bass had failed. I saw through the bubbles and knew I had to find my way home.
I waited only moments for the First wagon to pick me up. I thought I was safe, until it was proven how wrong I was! A quiet man boarded, who smelt ever so slightly of weed. This did not seem to bother the majority of passengers. However one man seemed more than slightly inconvenienced by it, and my god did he make it known. He shouted the exact words “You fucking prick. You stink of weed you out of order prick. There’s fucking kids on this bus. I’ll slap you off this bus if I have to.” He then explained to the person next to him that he smokes weed, but only at home and he washes his face before coming outside. As unbothered as the parent was by the smell of marijuana, she was bothered by the language and manner of this working class ‘hero’. This sparked a row, in which he defended himself shouting “I’m only trying to do good, but even that’s wrong these days”. He then got off, I’m guessing he heard the bass.
I’m back in civilisation now, and I feel safe. Zone 1 is a volatile place, and now I see why eBay and Amazon are so successful. They are saving us from ourselves. Zone 1 is no longer sustainable for human life.