When I approach my window the eerie glow illuminates my face.
I see the modern forest – the tall skyscrapers, the lower flats, the stumpy and vast shopping malls, the flat surface of crisscrossing streets.
I see lights that blind me. I see vehicles moving at rapid speed, passing the junction without a care in the world.
I see small, sparkling lights far away on the line of the horizon. I feel surrounded by the steel, glass and neon fluid.
I see ant-like people rushing through the intricate labyrinth of manmade buildings. They look like mice trapped in a box, looking for a way to finally reach the grand prize – the golden, delicious cheese.
I see shinning windows that light up or fade randomly, creating a one in a kind mosaic of human choices.
I see spans of manmade bridges, a fruitless effort to control the river. I see lit up, tacky billboards graciously telling me what I want to buy, what I want to eat, what I want to listen to. Telling me what I want.
And the only thing I cannot see is the pitch black night and the dreamy starry spots on the sky. They lost to the lights of the metropolis. The nature lost to the global village of luminosity.