Sybaris.

This city is killing my soul. It chips away at it day by day. 

It encourages moral degeneracy on a scale far larger than Las Vegas. Las Vegas feels like a quaint town by the sea compared to Sybaris.

I thought I’d rediscover my cultural roots here. Don’t we all, all we 2^nd-generation children of immigrants, no matter what our ethnic backgrounds… don’t we all look to our respective La Patries as a way to reconnect with our roots? Instead, I am discovering how little, if anything, I have in common with La Patrie. I need to be far, far more xenophobic or sexist or racist or materialistic or elitist to fit in. Right now, I am the “weirdo”.

I usually feel rejuvenated when I go abroad, but this—this—is different. I need to get out of here; the prevailing mentality and available entertainment here is clotting my bloodstream, it’s a single cell of cancer that is going to spread and utterly destroy any moral fiber if I stay here too long.

How do I be more specific. How how how. Let’s see. The alcohol is cheaper than water here. The cigarettes are cheaper than a Jumbo Jack. I suppose that’s a bit superficial though; those are only the tools that encourage degeneracy.

The patriarchal, xenophobic mindset here is overwhelming and omnipresent; it is extremely alienating for me, and makes me homesick. I’ve never gotten homesick before in my life until now. Everyone takes for granted how a girl should “act”, everyone assumes certain “truths” about other races and take it as gospel. 

This is a city where the first, first thing girls ask me is “what car do you drive” or “what job do you/your family do.” Louis Vutton, Gucci, soju, sake, bright lights –bright lights!!--, no last call, strict segregation, rampant sexism and racism, bleary-eyed zombies, deceitful taxi-cab drivers, beautiful well-dressed girls, Hermes, making fun of poor people, it’s making me dizzy.

This city is killing my soul. I need to get out of here.