A certain melancholia.

One would think there would be enough in our city to occupy one’s time. We have a pyramid, an Eiffel Tower, a castle, a volcano, a shark reef, and very close, the largest man-made lake on Earth. There are jousting tournaments nightly, pirate battles, gondola rides, an amusement park, a church on the Strip that accepts gambling chips as tithes, and a perpetual state of Mardi Gras. Pizza at four in the morning, clubs that never close, a mayor that was once a mobster defense attorney, drive-through wedding chapels.

And yet, I cannot find one damn thing I care to do right now. People spend thousands of dollars to stay here for a week, to immerse themselves in the bizarre culture unique to Las Vegas, and here I sit, oblivious to it all, taking it all for granted.

I suppose it is not so grand when I experience it daily.