CITY SCOPE
I am not entirely sure what I am doing living in a box so far from the ground.
“Fuck you Vancouver Island,” screams the man ten stories below.
I can see the corner of my neighbours kitchen, they use it so seldom. By contrast the couple across the street always keeps their light on, oblivious to the salsa dancing two doors over and one door down.
There they are, the other, the stranger, looking out their window back at me - I am frozen, like a deer trapped in the glare of surging modernity.
Looking out to the city, all of it’s corners and stores, layered identities and everything in between, everything at my fingertips, anyone I want to be is a short walk away.
Cool vintage clothes, check.
Board games galore, check.
Self actualizing, nature loving gear guru, all dollars and no sense… check.
How lucky can one guy be.
Me.
