I'm fairly positive that I'm a country person by heart. I just like the peace and quiet and solitude and chance to breathe and think and feel without anyone imposing his or her will on me or crowding my existence. But there's something to be said for being downtown, whether it's the main street of a small little community or the sprawling city streets of a major urban center.
There's a buzz and vitality and energy that you can't produce elsewhere. There's a sea of faces and mass of humanity that generates a pulse that doesn't seem to exist anywhere else. There's a whole universe of classes and sophistication and rawness. It's a blender. A big, fat pot of likenesses and differences. There's a cleanliness and dirtiness that comes together and drifts apart. There is a violence and anticipation that forms metal. There are options and diversity at play. There's inclusion and separation, and it all exists in the same few blocks.
The smells of a downtown are limitless. The sidewalk spring your steps, make you walk at a faster pace.The viewpoints are always changing. The voices blend and separate, floating higher and then into the gutters. There is a desperation that oozes from downtown streets that you can't feel or see in any other environment. There's sadness and joy. There's discovery. There's adventure.
I don't get downtown nearly enough. I don't get to be part of it or let it take me where it wants nearly enough, either. That's a shame because when I do make the time and do give myself over to a downtown's power, I'm usually better for it. I'm usually renewed and enlightened in some way. At the least, I'm left feeling energized and full of possibilities and that opportunities are really awaiting me, not just existing as a figment of my hope and desire.
In another life, I'd live atop a tall building in a loft full of character and charm. I'd invite my sophisticated friends over after work to discuss the latest in world events. We'd drink out of nifty glasses that we'd clink together and refill until our heads became woozy and light. We'd eat little but partake of other substances because our only responsibility would be to outdo each other, a task we'd take seriously and with intent. We ride the elevator down to the main floor and hit the city streets with bad intentions. We'd stalk our prey with no regret and enter habitats that only the brave would dare to go. We'd power our way to success and live under no illusions. We'd know our roles and our places. In another life, I'd own no car because I wouldn't need one. My wardrobe would be tailor made, and my bedroom would be a target for the adventurous. I'd be the sole lord of my manner, and I'd do business each and every day. Important business.
I love the downtown life and fantasize about what it can offer me. I'll never be a downtown citizen. I know that. But I often find myself envious of them and where they reside.
There's a buzz and vitality and energy that you can't produce elsewhere. There's a sea of faces and mass of humanity that generates a pulse that doesn't seem to exist anywhere else. There's a whole universe of classes and sophistication and rawness. It's a blender. A big, fat pot of likenesses and differences. There's a cleanliness and dirtiness that comes together and drifts apart. There is a violence and anticipation that forms metal. There are options and diversity at play. There's inclusion and separation, and it all exists in the same few blocks.
The smells of a downtown are limitless. The sidewalk spring your steps, make you walk at a faster pace.The viewpoints are always changing. The voices blend and separate, floating higher and then into the gutters. There is a desperation that oozes from downtown streets that you can't feel or see in any other environment. There's sadness and joy. There's discovery. There's adventure.
I don't get downtown nearly enough. I don't get to be part of it or let it take me where it wants nearly enough, either. That's a shame because when I do make the time and do give myself over to a downtown's power, I'm usually better for it. I'm usually renewed and enlightened in some way. At the least, I'm left feeling energized and full of possibilities and that opportunities are really awaiting me, not just existing as a figment of my hope and desire.
In another life, I'd live atop a tall building in a loft full of character and charm. I'd invite my sophisticated friends over after work to discuss the latest in world events. We'd drink out of nifty glasses that we'd clink together and refill until our heads became woozy and light. We'd eat little but partake of other substances because our only responsibility would be to outdo each other, a task we'd take seriously and with intent. We ride the elevator down to the main floor and hit the city streets with bad intentions. We'd stalk our prey with no regret and enter habitats that only the brave would dare to go. We'd power our way to success and live under no illusions. We'd know our roles and our places. In another life, I'd own no car because I wouldn't need one. My wardrobe would be tailor made, and my bedroom would be a target for the adventurous. I'd be the sole lord of my manner, and I'd do business each and every day. Important business.
I love the downtown life and fantasize about what it can offer me. I'll never be a downtown citizen. I know that. But I often find myself envious of them and where they reside.
Things'll be great.
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