city of the dead

the wide clean streets of washington are deserted in strips at night. the homeless dot the landscape. gangs of whites and blacks huddle around the few lighted areas. by day, in the harsh july sun, droves of tourists roam in the stifling heat. the city feels sterile. soul-less. full of malaise. i hate it. and yet my little lonely planets guide paints a picture of town filled with power and passion. that may be so in the monolithic air-conditioned federal office corridors, but out here on the pavement, there is only the walking dead.

it had been at the back of my mind, but contrast with my present surroundings has thrusted it forward in my consciousness. new york city is like a living organism. there is always construction and renovations and areas of decay. new yorkers busy about their lives, giving their city a relentless pulse. its energy is contagious. you either breath it in and immerse yourself in it, or it overwhelms you and you drown.

i am always exhausted at the end of the day. some of it, i know, has to do with the heat and the humidity. but america and americans grate my nerve raw. someone once described them as a powerful child. there is truth in this allusion. industrious, hopeful, intelligent, beautiful, full with energy and talent and ability. but just because everything is possible doesn't mean that everything is good. there is so much cruelty in their ignorance.

no, this is unfair. it's not just the americans. but more seem to have crossed my path these past few days. it is simply that these people are inconsiderate. inconsiderate people drive me nuts. i want to shoot them all and make them suffer. i wish i had the point-of-view gun!