Why do we love cities? Why do I? The answer is simple. I love cities because they’re full of life. They are dramatic. Every move you make in a city matters tremendously even though it may not matter to anyone but you. Everything seems so important, even if it really isn’t. People are together, but alone. Everyone is alone, but together. I love the culture and art, the different lifestyles that everyone embraces, the fashion you don’t see anywhere else and the life that a city slams straight into your face at every opportunity.
Also, you can’t do just whatever you want in the countryside. Yes, I do truly understand how important it is to sometimes sit down, and breathe, and take it easy, and slow down and… I don’t know what else. I do all those things on the train or coffee shops, so I never really got that long in the sentence before. Quite simply I am a city girl, and whenever I’m near something like unmoved lawns I get desperate. It’s a desperation that can only exist from being in a metropolis for way too long. My eyes start to wonder faster and faster. I start to realize that dive bars, hipsters, sidewalks, traffic, bookstores, coffee shops, theatres, Converse, loud rock’n’roll, poetry slams, speakeasys, slang, street cred, and everything else that comes with big cities are all like oxygen to me: without them I will die (in spirit that is, I was once in Kentucky and spent the whole day on a swing, trying to comfortably remind myself that tomorrow I was going to breathe polluted air again).
The point is that I write way too much, so why not just keep going? I’m a slam poet, freelance journalist, novelist, but I am not a blogger. Oh me, oh my, I need to get myself some blogging going.
Therefore:
Also, you can’t do just whatever you want in the countryside. Yes, I do truly understand how important it is to sometimes sit down, and breathe, and take it easy, and slow down and… I don’t know what else. I do all those things on the train or coffee shops, so I never really got that long in the sentence before. Quite simply I am a city girl, and whenever I’m near something like unmoved lawns I get desperate. It’s a desperation that can only exist from being in a metropolis for way too long. My eyes start to wonder faster and faster. I start to realize that dive bars, hipsters, sidewalks, traffic, bookstores, coffee shops, theatres, Converse, loud rock’n’roll, poetry slams, speakeasys, slang, street cred, and everything else that comes with big cities are all like oxygen to me: without them I will die (in spirit that is, I was once in Kentucky and spent the whole day on a swing, trying to comfortably remind myself that tomorrow I was going to breathe polluted air again).
The point is that I write way too much, so why not just keep going? I’m a slam poet, freelance journalist, novelist, but I am not a blogger. Oh me, oh my, I need to get myself some blogging going.
Therefore:
Let’s start this bad boy in Copenhagen.
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