People Collide

by Isle McElroy

Americans were puppets of their ambitions, obsessed with taking part in their own lives, in knowing themselves, in doing, in being, in living, in fundamentally changing the world, all in the service of our own egos. My friends’ cynicism was a nice counterpoint to this impulse. It seemed borne on a true understanding of life: Very little we ever did mattered. Our only requirement was to keep moving.