Loose Sentiments From Elsewhere: Floor Nine of Vegas Hotel #93748293

Loose Sentiments From Elsewhere

Floor Nine of Vegas Hotel #93748293


I used to hate Vegas

I hated the searing lights, the excess,

The manifestation of all the ugly parts of humanity

And I think I equated that to weakness.




As I sit here, 3 AM,

Flashing lights and neon signs alight the inhabitants below

Stumbling and mumbling and fumbling about

--no price too high, for this, the most tangible chance at bargaining with fate--

I watch the participants in this robust equilibrium of the night,

to consume and be consumed by darkness,

albeit surrounded by so much light.

Such is the paradox of these streets.

But from up here,

Close enough to the stars to scrape my knuckles against the sky,

The light scatters like the fleeting ones above,

So that even the traffic signals seem to spill, teeming with secrets,

The secrets of the real spectacles above,

Confined to the sky and outshined by their fabricated sisters on the Earth below;

Of the dirt underneath,

A thin layer of rubble and lipstick all that remains of the deserts reduced to dust;

Of the people that traverse it,

The weight of the world spilling through the pursuit of oblivion;

And who knows what else (I think the cracks in the sidewalk are well aware)

Watching all this,

I recognize that strength is overrated.


I’m not sure where I’m going with this--maybe I still hate Vegas. Who am I to throw my voice to the void, romanticize the gluttony.


It’s just that this time around, I see solidarity in the gleam.

I see the effort and beauty of this man made odyssey

Of thousands of people clamouring together in this island, covered in lights and dipped in butter

The trouble child of a troubled world.

I appreciate that attempt at beauty

And won’t deny that there’s some to be had, in this collection of loose souls.