When people say a city is beautiful, they always tell it so touristy; they always think about the buildings, they don’t talk about the real pulse of the city and people that live there.
I was never like that.
Of course, you can learn something about the people that live there by the way the city is run, how well it is organized, you can get the general picture of the people that live there.
But that is just a superficial picture.
People are always the heart of the city.
It’s not the buildings, no nothing, but people.
And in every city, there are good people and bad. In my eyes, the ratio of good and bad people is what makes a city good or bad, beautiful or ugly.
The city where I live is not well organized, not well run, is polluted, dirty, has 1001 flaws that piss me off, but the people are those that make me “forget” about all those flaws.
Most of the time my city is bright and beautiful, ordinary people make it like that, and most of the time I like living in it, I enjoy it, but I also know the times when my city is black, and when those times come, my city becomes one very intimidating and scary place.
