SIMULATION GLITCH with Chris Martin of Coldplay

Holly Would in Nashville

“I am a rockstar. I am love. I am a rockstar. I am love.” I repeated these phrases over and over to myself, out loud, and in my head, doubling up on the mantras as I walked over the bridge from the bad part on the wrong side where I parked my car. The part with the rusted out double wides and ramshackle ramblers half crumbling onto knee high weeds. Occasionally you’d catch sight of a methed out zombie, staring out with hungry, empty, yellow eyes, wearing an oil stained t-shirt and pants that hung so low you could see their butt-crack and dick root.

Just on the other side of the bridge was the fancy part with hotels and restaurants with the same names as the ones in New York and LA. They popped up and we watched them grow as they took the shape of a sparkling gentrification monster. The buildings; white, pristine, clean and god-like just like the people that looked out of their large picture windows, glistening against the Nashville sky.

On this day the clouds were in little tufts, few a…