-While gazing at the Boston cityscape-
Much like a tropical jungle, a cacophony of sounds greets one when first confronted with these concrete giants. These beasts, a symbol of a so called progress, hide within them an energy that roams throughout and spills onto the street. It reverberates smoothly through flesh and steel, and passes by dark alleys leaving a sense of yearning to learn what hides within. Wonders could be found; mysterious, neurotic beings of all type make this their habitat. Tirelessly, they work the concrete fields, producing: what is it they produce? No one knows, for a sense of chaos seems apparent, an endless stream of utter lunacy comes forth from these beasts, a psychedelic montage of ideas and products to be consumed and regurgitated to be recycled into another flowing river of schizophrenic confusion. Do not look to the whole of this to understand its purpose, because purpose it may not have, if not for its endless progress, progress into the unknown. As I gaze into this concrete jungle, with perhaps the same wonder that I gaze to the skies around, I realize that perhaps there is no inherent purpose to any of this madness. Pessimistic? No, inspiring, As this realization gives me, and hopefully us, the chance to give this eccentricity that we call life a purpose of our own. There are many mysterious out there in the unknown, mysteries that perhaps are not for us to solve, yet the enigma that hides within you, that can be known.
