Collision Course

Staring at the abandoned car that remained in disrepair for my entire apartment complex to see, I was reminded of the many people who like that truck remained broken and the only thing the owner even bothered to do, after so many months was half cover it with a car cloth that hung awkwardly over the truly destroyed side of the car. Like so many other things in our society this truck projected the way in which we as Americans have come to deal with our problems: we ignore them. There is a strange familiarity I feel whenever I make my daily acquaintance with the truck. It reminds me of my antiquated American conundrum, wrought with neglect. It sickens me almost because I, like so many of my American counterparts, have chosen to put a dirty band aid over an infected wound and it continues to eat away at me with each day my ragged clothing brushes against it. What shall I do about my broken down SUV as no one ever bothered to fix me or it after my car crash.