One Hitters

The following posts are a compilation of the "One Hitters" I found in my journal; about two years old, they are single page idea developments ranging from the hypothetical to the real. This is the first set.
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Coffee Break
I'm the loudest voice in the coffee shop, reinforcing my presence. The mountains of laughter, the cascading nostalgic stories, the forest of dropped names paint a landscape of "look at me, here I am."
Am I like that? Am I so deprived of attention, so uncertain about my place in a society of faceless, disposable people that I must force myself into the lives of others? I'm aware of them glancing, listening, putting their own converstation on the back burner to analyze, scrutinize, judge me. Yet I'm terrified when I ought to be the willing center of attention, when the limelight has my name on it. Then why, at ths moment, where I'm expected, in fact supposed to, blend into the beige undertones of the Starbucks and become part of the wallpaper, I begin to peal away and permeate the others with my shrillness.
I think it's time I find myself.

Thoughts

Repulsion is such a weak word. The English language should go along with its speakers; pessimists, haters, us, we need language too. Everything is so filtered, controlled. Even the core of our language is rooted to monitored systems. They gave us fuck, cunt, bastard, and let us run with them, happy and free, breaking laws that were put in place only to disillusion us. How those big Wigs must be laughing now; they've walked the sheep to the pasture, and oh man do we blindly feed. This grass is fertilized with lies and oppression.

Patriotism

The white picket fence isn't put up for us to open the gate and walk on in home. oh no. The white picket fence taunt us with its appeal, its promises, its blissful mediocracy as we drool on our shoes. The modest house with the white picket fence, the home of Lady Liberty, is a disproportional beacon, our USA advertizing pamphlet in the hospitals of the world. "COME JOIN THE DISEASE. COME BATHE IN OUR AIDS INFESTED MELTING POT, you Muslims, you Kiwis, you Jews. We invite you over! Come to our institutions! Bask in the advancement of our technology! See how fast we're running? Run beside us! We have some water at home, in case you get tired of running. Come over, you'll know us by our white picket fence." So they rush, they flow, they trample to the steps of the home, waving their invitations proudly, awaiting that satisfying, promised drink. Are they surprised by the foreclosure sign? Are they surprised by the rats in the living room? Are they surprised at the bloodthirsty pit bull that guards the front steps? Are they surprised by the padlock on the gate of the white picket fence?