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The city suddenly felt too big and very dangerous. It was walking through those abandoned buildings, which at one point were something, that first put the nostalgia in my stomach. I had also just said goodbye to old friends. I had always thought that I would come back. I had said that this might be my home, but looking at it more closely it was just too much; too smoggy, and too lonely there.
Thinking about it maybe the pain in my stomach was there because of what I was leaving and giving up. It was because me and the city had potential. We could have been great friends, and at one point we were. But it was just too complicated. I do not think I could ever understand it and maybe it would learn to accommodate me but I did not want that. Just an accommodation. I wanted to fit in. I wanted it to embrace me; I wanted to understand it. But I think it was too late for that.

The big building led me. I was walking in an empty street with no people and minimal cars around praying to God to let me reach that building. It was stupid of me really. I knew better. I did watch the news. I guess that is the problem. I do misunderstand the city. I do not know what to believe. I felt safe walking through there at first but then I started thinking about the risks.
I was relieved when I reached the gentrified area. Relieved that I had gotten there. Sad because of my relief. Maybe the whole city should be turned into one big gentrified space.
One big mall after another. A trendy place to shop with a village twist or a trendy place to shop with an ethnic taste, but always an endless supply of Forever Twenty One and Old Navy stores.
Then we could all walk around the city feeling safe. Families thrown out and children ignored the problem swept under the rug to be dealt by another city or another mayor.
One day the abandoned buildings would have new life again. But at what price?

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