Suburbia

“But I don't want comfort. I want God, I want poetry, I want real danger, I want freedom, I want goodness. I want sin.” - Aldous Huxley

(Quote taken out of context...)

I've disliked suburbia ever since I laid eyes on it. Those houses, all identical with their perfect wooden fences, the lingering buzz of lawn mowers, the freshly made pavement, the occasional person on the sidewalk avec ou sans dog. My first thought was, "Wow, you can spit from the wall of one house to the next. Why not make them townhouses and share a backyard?" Well, that clearly does not work in suburbia. People like sectioning themselves off. Children play in their own backyards. The sidewalk is for people with no cars. Who does not have a car anyway? When I jog outside it makes me sad observing the rituals of this box: I smell the brewed coffee at around 7h, the cars rev up at 8h, dead silence until noon, cars return at 16h or 17h, wafts of food at 19h, and then all that remains are little windows of light 'til bedtime. Repeat. I rarely see people hang around in front of their houses. Even if they do, it is at the perfect distance from the sidewalk. Not too far to not see what's going on, yet not too close to actually meet new people. There is no room for new people and their differing views/opinions in these comfort bubbles. Just plaster on a fake smile and go about your day. Walking around is comparable to roaming a labyrinth. Besides this, there is nothing interesting to observe. Everything is the same, everything is new, there are no stories nor room for wonder.

Yes, I want simple. But simple is not cookie-cutter. And that is definitely not real.