The City

I live in the suburbs, and yes, like most souls yearn to live in the city. There is something oddly human about the crowded streets. People are more real. Some are pissed, some happy, some nonchalant, some downright creepy, but they are definitely real.
The suburbs on the other hand, are different. Sure, life is calmer and more relaxed here, but there is an cathartic uniformity that surrounds everything. Everything seems the same. Every bend in the road looks like every other road. The people almost become indistinguishable from each other and the invisible hand of the chain store culture is omnipotent.
The city is different. There is tradition, culture and history abound. A crumbling behemoth that is trying not to fade away. Modern buildings that are decorated in metallic glass stand side by side with older buildings built much earlier. How long will the older one last? Will it, like the many “old” things in the world be changed into something “new”. I hope not.
I look at the water tower place on lake Michigan with a relaxed disposition. If only buildings could talk. What stories would this one tell. Stories of horse drawn carriages, tales of love and bloodshed. Sagas of lust, battles, vagrants, heroes and also of the nameless wanderers. I look at the Chicago river, and the sight of the calm blue water reassures me about the permanence of motion. Lives may be lived and buildings may fall, but the water flows forever.
As the mid-day sun descents into Lake Michigan, the fading light bounces off the sepia toned streets and soaks everything with an other worldly glow. The street lights cast shadows in impossible directions and life seems to dance around me. The ordinary becomes the extra ordinary. The calm becomes the macabre. The dusk becomes the night.
The city becomes THE CITY.