In March, I'm taking a much-needed leave of the city.
Kansas City, thank you for the music, the food, the museums, and the hot hang-out spots, but frankly, you can go to Hell.
A few weeks ago, I found myself standing at my window as the sun was setting, contemplating the streets and buildings below me. What I said came out almost automatically:
"Every man, woman, and child in this city will die by my hand."
Yep. I need a vacation.
The city is just too full of people. Every day that passes, I feel my patience for other people waning, my disgust bubbling over. In traffic, in the suburbs, in the library - it doesn't matter where I am - the people that surround me are rude, ignorant, or worse.
Sometimes, I watch the sun go down over the West Bottoms from the edge of the park across the street. I like to watch the traffic, the trains, and the people in miniature. It's like a little anthill down there. Usually, an eagle or a flock of crows will catch my attention, will fascinate me for a while.
I think that is what I miss. Humans grew up (evolutionarily) in places with other living things - a staggering variety of living things. Cities are places where almost every creature is a human. The few non-human creatures are dirty birds that feed off of our trash, or animals that we have domesticated. Even the grass and trees are there for decoration, but thank God that we at least have those.
The sense of the wild is absent here. In its place is all the worst things about people. God, give me some space, solitude, serenity. Give me a herd of something, a coyote, a fox, a wildflower, a wild something-or-other.