City Stakes
The city is lonely. Not in the lack-of-friends-slash-lack-of-things-to-do type loneliness, but the type that consumes from inside, leeching without being noticed. So are we, surrounded all the time. Suffocated by gargantuan buildings and tiny apartments, boxed in and stuffed to the brim. Shoulders forever glued to strangers’ shoulders, brushing past so much that this touch has become desensitized. Your body acts as a prop for the city, a stand in, an extra, a consumer. But, you don’t mind, because you are a proud city solider marching through each day, braving the schedule, mimicking routine, stomping the pavements, living for the city. And despite the monotonous nature of your days, there is comfort that they are the same. Yes the nuances change, the social scenes adapt, the fashion shows differ, watering holes rotate, street festivals grow, restaurants live, die and rise from former ashes. People you meet generally are the same in alternative masks. The race for the new and better forges on. It prevents us from appreciating the gems we stumble upon, the rare personal connections we make and the revelations we don’t share on twitter. Let’s take back the times we walked to wander, without purpose. When misdirection led to discovery and we travelled from one end of the city to the other “just ’cause “. We were easily enamored and it was endearing that we sometimes got lost. The city lived for us, breathed for us, and we were ok with that.
– R