“Dear denizen may I ask you few humble questions so that I am sure of the correctness of my observations of this metropolitan?”
“To somehow figure out what part I play in this great ecosystem. I do not know anything.”
“Then answer this simple question of: Who are you? What is your identity in this great city? Are you a businessman, a student, a person of this land or someone seeking refuge?”
“So you humble passer-by is standing here as this is a place to everyone, where all creeds and colours mix and all unsaid hierarchical classes spend their fortune, doing various activities that suit them? Ah-ha but of course it is, if my observations has shown me anything it is what you have said – and so this place represents the novel spirit of Waitematā.”
“Then shall we move on to the next question?”
“Why would you wish to do such a thing?”
“As you wish. But do this with haste, as you see this is the city - I have no more time than a few odd minutes.”
“I am all which you just stated, as I am an adult, child, seller, buyer, beggar, businessman, foreigner and native, a person in transit, and dweller. “
“Precisely. And I suppose your latter realisation is similarly truthful.”
“We shall, but quickly.”
“I have seen you walk about here many-a-time. So please tell me where you are going day-after-day, week-afterweek?”
Your must be more specific if I am to know where exactly it is a city dweller journeys.
“So would I be correct in saying you are a traveller in this specific place, you do not stand for long but treat this as your home only for short periods of time. And if I asked anyone else they would give me the same answer. You all have common pursuits, differentiated only by the path you take.”
“I go in and out of the city and into the city again.”
I go to drink champagne, to find love, to make sure my superior is happy, purchase dinner, and celebrate, complain there are too many people at this time of day, head out of the bus, into the train, onto the ferry.”
“You have come to the right conclusion. Quickly now.”
“Why in the world are you in such a hurry as I see that you are eager to keep moving?”
“Treasure this moment as you have stopped and thought, and felt and heard. Do not listen to the pace but all other which makes you want to stay. Imagine things alike the soft salty air that you shall breath infused the aroma of coffee. Oh what I wonderful smell it is.”
“But dear passer-by that is the smell of the city…and it is wonderful, there’s none other like it. Take Chicago, New York City, London, do you think these are missing such sights and smells?”
“It is true I suppose. Auckland desires to be somehow visionary, hence yes, you are correct. There should be a places in this busy city where people can get away from such negative attributes of the current city, taking a moment to pause, a moment to stand, to meet, a moment to smell only the aroma of anything but smoke and dirt.”
“I am not eager to keep moving. It is but rather it is the city that is eager. I am simply a part of the whole, and like an ant, I am expected to travel at the same pace as my fellows. I see the images of movement as bodies pass me, looking more down than at each other and I am sucked in. The conversation of each person is not a clear sound but a swift buzz that is no different to the cries of birds in a tree. It is fast and it wants me to see fast, hear fast, move fast. There is no time to halt.”
“But do you not smell the horrid toxic air of the too many vehicles and the rumbles of the trains, and the stampede of people sweating in such close proximity. All kinds of pollution seeping into our lungs, uninvited and cruel, a machination to rid of us. This is not a place to linger, but to get on with business.”
“Not merely, but can a city be no more perfect that such cities you have just named?”
“So if we are to make such a city, where everything is more perfect, we must know what it is missing as of yet, isn’t that so?”
“True enough indeed. Well, you spoke of the unpleasant smells of the vehicles, and pollution and overcrowding. Do continue.”
“Go on.”
“That is no doubt true.”
“That is so, but I think we should only focus on where we both stand now, as recreating a whole city in a perfect image will take up an unforeseeable amount of time.”
“Well this is a centre without a centre; there is only a sense of disruption, over crowdedness and non-community.”
“There is no style, no recognised history, nothing that is uniquely this city. The phallic Sky Tower is a better example of identity that this square as even today I have heard people admiring it. We need a Chrysler building of sorts here in our city - another landmark. This city is missing so much but itself has made us too busy to realise this.”
“Grass, grass is another thing, where is the grass? Trees. The eighteen pathetic excuses for trees those themselves do not desire to be there is nothing but a fucking shame.”
“Hmm…what about….”
“So be it. I have no objection to this.”
“I want to be known, to exist, not merely as another but as an icon. Not to be sequestered. I am in the shadow of the great constructions around me and I have no voice. There have gleaming eyes that reflect the sun but provide no warmth… I want to be for everyone so everyone can be for me, to be united and to unite. I want to be heard as I reemerge!”
“No, now let me ask you a question, as I must now leave as you said at our introduction, it is you that needs to find out who they are in this great city.”
“Simply, what do you want to be? This city is full of a multiplicity of opportunities, so what is it that you want from it? “
“Well isn’t this the perfect opportunity?”