I had a taste of horror every time I went to New York. A woman was cooking an egg on an iron - that really worried me. Every night my granddad unscrewed his car aerial so gangs wouldn't break it off - I could feel fear in the air. Living in the Northwest, I never really saw a big city. When I visited New York, the contrast was so great that I felt a surge of power every time I went near a city.
Life is a matter of contrasts.
If everything is noisy and a bomb goes off, one is only mildly affected. But, if it's quiet when the explosion hits, one is really affected. That's my love-hate relationship with the city. Now I like cities. I still like the woods though.