Many of my friends hated the city, its pollution. They complained
of its many cars, the bubblegum sidewalk stains, the smog. The
way the sky never darkened; it was more often than naught that a
club was darker than the outer sky.
I love the city. I love the way it smells; the
pollution was the nutmeg on the pumpkin pie. The lights were like
magic, illuminating the night sky, revealing all. Dirt on the
street was just the way it was- it was just the way humanity was
made to live. We weren't made to be in the middle of nowhere, we
weren't made to be squeaky clean with white being separate from
The city reflected society; with the bums on the
street and the Armani suited men in limos. The hierarchy of life
is situated in any modern city- all you have to do is look for
Many of my friends hated the city, its population.
There were complaints of the crowds, and the cars. I heard jokes
of the skater boys on the subways, and the arduous traffic. It
was irritating; couldn't they see that people need one another?
We need to compare ourselves to the too-old men still
going to skating parks, and to be pushed in an elevator. If we
were the only ones buying tickets for the Blue Line at the
station, life would have no fun. We would be stuck in routine,
never being surprised by the odd bum screaming out nonsensical
hysterics or the sexy Prada-suited men returning after
life-changing deals at work.
Humans watch the world rotate around us and we don't
see the way it affects us enough. Without the busy schedules of
the city folk or the sun-up to sun-down schedules of the farm
life there would be no schedules at all. No world to rotate about
us. No bubble gum stains on the sidewalk to complain of. No
pollution to protest against. Nothing at all.
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