Here In My Car

Driving back to the 'burbs from Vancouver on a sunny Wednesday afternoon - two pm-ish- I had to ask myself, where did all these people on the road come from? Windows rolled up, AC cranked no doubt, the solo drivers cruised in a mock-rush hour, a fooler, a teaser prepping us all for the real thing. I know that I'm unemployed, but why aren't the rest of the people on the road at work? Do that many people work odd hours these days? Are that many people unemployed?

Which brings me to my next point - I need to get out of the city. Cities never sleep. Cliche, but true, I think. Cities never rest. Cities breath and pulse to their own rhythm... a rhythm that never ceases to leave me feel like I'm floundering in a sea, moments before going under. Vast distances and times spent tangled up in traffic, behind an exhaust hose, floating through the city-haze.

At the same time, I feel a sort of centredness when I'm in the city centre. Surrounded by tall, shiny buildings, sometimes I just like to walk around, watching people go by, watching construction crews, busses, and cars. I feel the swirl of other peoples' lives, and the tug of the city's undertow at my feet. I feel dangerous. Like I'm standing on the edge of a life that I could have, like I could jump in now and end it all. Or I could turn around and head away...