When I was 16 years old, I almost had an emotional breakdown at this spot. That was more than 10 years ago. I remember being overwhelmed by everything: the men’s suits and their wrinkled ties, the women’s black pencil skirts and modest heels; the number of people mindlessly rambling along, following the rhythm of the beating cold heart of the city. I couldn’t handle how gray everything was; everyone had blank expressions. I thought I was in a Philip K. Dick novel. I broke out in a cold sweat. I had to pause and breathe deeply before I could move along and rejoin the crowd.
12 years later, somebody must have had the same experience, so they decided to decorate this walkway with something that would trick the passers-by into thinking that this is a fun place. That is the only explanation I can think of for those mini-banderitas or flaglet-like installations in this picture.
This post is my entry to a blog challenge at work.
I’m a person of simple tastes and wants. All I’ve ever wanted since I was 12 was to have my own room where I can display my notebook collection. When I was 16, I was content to stay in bed and write in my journal. At 22, I thought I needed nothing more than classical music and a bowl of spaghetti.