It's Halloween night. I haven't bought a costume, I've just woken from a nap with a headache, and I know nobody here who's throwing a party. I may as well go out and eye the nightlife, just so I can claim not to be a total shut-in. However, as I am personally committed to keeping this a daily blog, I simply can't leave without making a post.
Atlanta is a truly scary place, or, for fans of Hallmark, "spooky." This is partly due to the insane overall crime rate. The barren, soundstage feel of most of the city after dark adds to the fearful atmosphere. This city may just be scariest, however, for job seekers--it took me eleven months to find the first job that I currently have, and if I hadn't been in school, it most likely wouldn't have happened.
The scariest thing about Atlanta, despite our city's horrid countenance on paper when compared with others, is that no amount of negativity, nor of positivity, can prepare a newcomer for life here. Atlanta is a very surprising place. One could live next to a homeless shelter and down the street from the Atlanta City Jail, and be within walking distance of one of the chillest nightlife neighborhoods in the city. One could end up commuting from Downtown to Sandy Springs, or from Sandy Springs to Downtown, or one could work from home in, say, a five-story apartment building designed to lovingly embrace one of our many colorless limited-access highways. One could be a socially inept college kid raised in the suburbs and have not one, but two jobs Downtown; one could likewise have many friends and lovers, a Master's degree, and fail to find decent work. One could find that MARTA, one of America's most maligned transit systems, actually functions as an acceptable replacement for a car intown.
This is what restores my hope, even on my gloomiest days, in the city where I was born. Atlanta, rather than being easily definable in words, is one shock to the system after another.
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