Let's get out of town...

Imagine this scenario... You live in a place with 8 million people. You get claustrophobic. You need a break. Anywhere, anything, as long as it is away from the overcrowded humid streets. You find out one of your friends has an extra ticket to the best concert of the summer, probably the last one outside. The venue is in the city, but on an island, hence it’s like getting away. An escape. It involves travel time, first on a train, then a boat and a finally a walk on grass, before the stage will present itself, in front of about 10 000 bladders sharing green port-a-potties and seven dollar Heineken in plastic cups. The music starts, and you wonder how is it possible to feel so relaxed in a crowd this big, enforcing the love-hate relationship of a city overgrown. The band sings and you realize it is the right decision to break up. Because there's definite love there, just not the right kind. The band sings, and you agree:

New York, I Love You
But you're freaking me out

New York, I Love You
But you're bringing me down

And with that, I decide with a 100 percent certainty, it's time to leave.