cities - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
Working in the heat of the scorching sun, I took a sweeping glance of those busy roads. As a villager, I never understood what these big-city people had to do in such a hurry that they could never wait for a few seconds here or there instead of running around like maniacs. Dwelling in affluent areas, how could these people keep on bargaining for just a small amount of money? Don't they have any sympathy for the poor one?! While these thoughts were whirling in my head, I reckoned that being poor is a blessing because at least we have a heart despite, the so called 'rich people' who don't even care about the rest...
I want the city. A place where the sky twinkles at night with the man made light that guides my path. A place that never allows the deafening silence to enter into my mind. A place where constant motion forbids me to wallow in self pity. A place that has a million faces I will never know. A place where I can no longer be bored. A place that actually contains a side of town that I can make a difference by walking down it. A place where my soul meets my wildest ambitions. I want the city. I want to be home.
I lifted my head to see out the window; what I saw, took my breath away. The ground below me was alive with lights, like someone had taken a handful of glitter and thrown it as far as the eye could see. It was too dark to make out individual buildings, but the lights were enough for me. I sighed, amazed at the view laid out before me.
After living my whole life in a country, the city was both a nightmare and poetry created. Lights shone everywhere like stars in the midnight sky and terrifying buildings towered above us, trying to scare us away. A luminous gibbous moon shone overhead and bestowed light upon the vast landscape. I would dream about this everyday of my (probably) short-lived life.
They were from places like India and Arabia, their cities bright with 1000 lights. They'd travelled days just to be there for hours.
In the cities life dwells where it may. The trees are in pots and the humans in concrete towers. There are laws and rules, a community of just one species, a hive of sorts. They move, eat and sleep to the ticking clock. But here in the rainforest the days flow seamlessly into one another, life and death, light and dark, new and decay. The food web is a living breathing beast; all of these plants and animals are connected by its silky thread. The leaves here are so thick, fleshy and large. With no winter to limit them they can become quite monstrous compared to deciduous woodland...
Every city had its own flavour, but always the harried commuters ruled the daytime hours. To get to know the city for real, to find out what lay beneath the tourist veneer, Ian had to go out at night. That's when the real life began, the one conducted away from the glare of the sun. In the shadows the straight jacket of the law was removed and all manner of things became possible.
The cities passed in a blur of concrete and steel, everywhere the mantra was the same, everywhere the depression was as thick. The same music played from the stores, the same food was served in mean portions, the only smiles worn by the corporate drones who put them like identity badges.