All the fun of the fair, but going nowhere…

Sometimes city life seems to be nothing more than a giant fairground ride… it entices us in with its glitz and glamour, its bright lights and blaring music, its vibrant night life and its promise of perpetual pleasure.

But if you stop for a moment, look behind the fancy façade, you come face to face with the gears, the cogs, the wheels, the dirty, oily, greasy, mechanics of it all, and in the cold, harsh light of day you can see it for what it really is. An illusion, an aberration, a pseudo side-show freak to which we all flock, mesmerised. Whirling around and around on our gaudily painted carousel ponies we watch as the outside world rushes by on the periphery of our vision, all blurred and merged together, whilst we, smug on our own high horse, scornfully mistake our constant motion for action.

Sometimes the city feels little more than a succubus, a consumer of souls, drawing us in, sucking us dry then spitting us out, hollow husks of humanity. And in the meantime we continue to sit tight, holding on to our seductive simulacra steeds for dear life, feeling suddenly sick and empty and wondering why, with all the fun of the fair at our fingertips, we still seem to be going nowhere fast…


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