It wasn’t too long ago that we found ourselves escaping Toronto, driving west to a smaller city about an hour out. We followed this trail skyward and stood high above houses and streets that reminded me of game pieces -manipulateable.

I feel powerless in the city I (unfortunately) currently call home. I despise the landscape and can’t stand the people. My university town -Kingston -still holds my soul in its grasp. But, in the moments when I’m honest to myself, I recognize that it could be any town, so long as it remained uncorrupted by the forces of evil that are resplendent in urbane life.

Sure, Kingston had issues of its own. Among them, girls who dressed like clones -their lifestyle paid for by absent parents. But, like those reality television shows about California teens, they were too naive and innocent to be devastating. We could sort of laugh sardonically at their misplaced value system.

Besides, it had qualities that contributed and detracted from this small shortfall. Kindness, community, beauty, nature, love. It had this same kind of manipulateability that drew us into its heart rather than leaving us feeling like automatons. None of this exists in Toronto (be forewarned!), and I am growing exponentially weary of the people here.

I could write a manual on how to fit in, in this city. It would go something like this: Brand Yourself. Find a diet, an exercise regime, and a lifestyle du jour (extra points are given if any of these happen to appropriate a culture which is not yours by birth).

These people seem so desperate to be different within the confines of familiarity. But unlike the girls of the university town, there is a subtle hint of danger here. These are the people who were told, and who believe that they should inherit the Earth. They can’t see 5 inches past their Blackberries/Iphones because the said items are, quite literally, 5 inches away from their face.

Speaking of, I saw the most bizarre thing the other day, people comparing their mobile devices like the Business Card scene from American Psycho

I often stop myself from approaching someone on the subway and asking them in earnest “Are you for real?” I feel like an alien in this world. I can’t really relate to the lifestyle here, and I don’t want any part of it. Sometimes it makes me want to laugh, other times it really scares me.

How exactly did I end up in this Matrix?