- I like looking at the city lights without my glasses on. It's like grabbing a camera and unfocusing everythging. Erasing the city. Breaking it. -she paused to lick her cigarette. She let the smoke out, staring at the city, as if whe was looking for something she knew she wasn't going to find. She didn't look at him, but she kept talking.- Down there, there are... hoy many? Fifteen? Sixteen millions of people? How many dreams are sixteen millions of people? How many teeth? How many hands? And what do they touch? What do they need? What do they want? What are they afraid of? What colour are they? There are sixteen millions of people down there and they're all connected. Some by a strong link, some by a stupid one. They're all connected. They might go to the same supermarket to get soya milk on Sundays or hum the same song at the same moment or get to the same elevator or come from the same place. Maybe they hate the very exact jerk or they're in love with the same girl. Maybe they've read Antigone the same amount of times. Maybe they haven't hooked up for the same period of time. Or their pets are named the same. Or they live in streets named after poets. Or they're allergic to the same kind of pollen. Or they were born the same day. Or they're considering jumping off the same bridge. Or they've never been kissed. It doesn't matter, we're all connected. Our lives are so fucking parallel that they actually touch. We are a circle. And they're all so alive. So alive that it's unfair to see them from here. They look vulnerable, fragile. And they are. They are. Each of them in their own unique way, but they all are. Seeing them from here is unfair because we have the whole city for us and we're still ridiculously tiny.
