City...

Thankfully, I no longer work in the city. I do, however, pass through it most days. Once, I didn't mind it. In fact, any sort of social activities I engaged in took place, largely, within the city. Now? On cue - as I step into it - I become tense. Anxious. Frustrated. Impatient. Disillusioned. Don't you love the way television promotions portray Brisbane's Queen Street Mall as classy and sophisticated? Spend some time in the middle of the mall, any day of the week at any time of the day. See if those clean and glossy magazine images match what surrounds you. What you'll find is a place seemingly determined to destroy any sign of even an ounce of classiness.

I have an ever-increasing problem with noise. Congregations of people who enjoy sitting in pedestrian thoroughfares at peak hour have always set me off. That's old news. But what I've found recently is how much I despise loud and ongoing noise. The noise of cars, trucks, buses and horns. I must be ageing abnormally rapidly. I jump when someone blows their car horn. I feel assaulted when some massive truck roars past, or when a motorbike tears by and drowns out the conversation I was in the middle of. It's an about-face for me, but I no longer carry any great desires to live in cities in the future. And Brisbane least of all. Any character it might have once had seems to fade more and more every day.