retrrogrades
( he treads on foreign land, & finds it comforting. the roads of manhattan scream opportunity & teeter on the brink of collapse; the faint beginnings of decline & the reminiscences of a recent stumble are not foreign tastes to guozhong. the lingering, dense hover of ‘freedom’ & of ‘liberty’ feels suffocating, but he cannot deny that it is better than the thick grip of voiceless people & hanging smog. the relative embrace of the land of america creates a sort of false security, & he marvels at the marginal presence of censorship. how ironic that the embodiment of china holds an american citizenship. the coffee shops that only recently intruded into his homeland are littered in the streets, & he enters the name brand ‘starbucks’, where one buys the fame & not the product’s quality. he doesn’t expect a certain company, yet he is not opposed to inviting himself a seat beside alfred. )
“do you actually like this stuff? how anyone can even think to swallow this is beyond me.” ( a gesture is made towards the drink in america’s hands. )
