It comes back to me while I read the notebook, like a weird deja vu. It’s quicker this time(?). Getting used to to (I hope).

Everything looks normal enough. Modern city, pretty similar if more sever architecture and décor.

Then I see a businessman, checking watch, rushing headlong into traffic just as the light changes.

SCREECH.

He’s hit—not much—just clipped by a car. Still knocks him on his ass. People help him up while someone calls for an ambulance. He’s getting up, assuring everyone he’s fine, then a single tear runs down his face.

People gasp and point. More turn away. Ashamed?

He wipes his face, eyes, grins but it loosely cover panic. “Fine. I’m fine! Really…”

Then some guard types arrive, hold him down while another scans his face with a device.

“Lachrymal gland triggered.”

“No! No! I swear, I didn’t-” but they haul him away in an old school paddy wagon.

Crying forbidden? No thanks. Next world.

Here, Rhyme/Rap battles are insanely popular. Like major league sports. Different, interesting, but not my thing. And everyone’s expected to be able to do so on a smaller scale, over everything.

I can’t rhyme for shit. I’m out.

Next one, debauchery is apparently the popular anti-religion, like atheism. People partying and getting high.

Everywhere.

But it’s ridiculous. Messy. Dangerous, how they go about it. Besides my own past, I’m not even tempted. I split.

Next gets tricky. Billboards, signs, ads for Reality TV like you wouldn’t believe. But different. Shrines everywhere, to the most popular celebs. I see Kim Kardashian alongside Kenye West. Taylor Swiftees, worshipers in her fashionable robes, chanting her songs. A group of Nicki Minaj worshipers duke it out with Cardi B fans. When weapons are pulled I book it. This ain’t working out.

Next place has no good food. Food is controlled by the state, for nutrition and health purposes. And it is the most terrible, bland garbage ever. Prison food was better than this.

And like the food, the society lacks taste and spirit as well. So no go. On to the next.

I wander the next one for a bit ‘till I find what’s off. Children are only allowed in certain areas at certain times. It’s weirdly depressing and 1984ish. Plus when I finally see the kids they’re either super sad or angry, radiating dark waves.

This can’t be good. I trust my gut and bounce.

Takes me even longer to find what’s different here. Everything looks nice and pleasant. Colorful, beautiful architecture, art, fashion. Smiles everywhere, nice upbeat music.

But it’s eerie. Like Twilight Zone eerie. I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Finally watching a public TV newscast, I get it. What’s missing.

Bad stuff. You can’t watch American news without seeing it. Yet here it’s totally opposite. You’d think they live in the Land of Make-Believe, everything’s so falsely cheery. Not only is it creepy (and insincere), but repressing the bad stuff ain’t good. I know. I dread what happens behind closed doors when people finally let loose.

I leave before I find out.

This one’s so obvious, it’s literally in my face. Everywhere, terrible teeth. Dentistry, orthodontics, dental hygiene, nothing of the kind. While some people are lucky, most aren’t. So few smiles, and even those aren’t worth seeing. I feel conspicuous with my straight, clean teeth. Like people are ready to swipe ‘em.

They might be. I leave quickly.