The City Devourer of Souls

I’m a city dweller.

I grew up in a city. I’ve lived in the suburbs and I’ve lived in the exurbs.

Both were enticing. Rolling fields, green spaces, and beautifully manicured homes and lawns. The busy roadways seem a world away

All calm.



I am a city dweller.

That’s what I tell myself. With my near-crippling anxiety, the city would seem like the last place I should be. With all its non-stop activity. The constant need to be focused and alert. The nail-biting environment of the unexpected.

It’s not exactly the anxious person’s haven.

But it’s where I prefer to be. It’s exactly where I belong.

I am a city dweller.

In the world outside the city, it’s just time, my thoughts, and me. There’s too much stillness for my mind to handle and the thoughts begin to race. Race like cars in the Indy 500. Race like dogs after a mechanical rabbit in a closed circuit.

The city is a blanket for the raging stream of thoughts in my head. Is it ADD? In its chaotic mess the city provides comfort. A tool for coping.

But in so doing, it slowly eats away at the soul. It savors every bite until I am no more. Until I need to escape the city.

But I am a city dweller.

Photo: unknown stock image

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