Everything seemed to move at a faster pace in the city. A sea of people. Faceless people. Most seemed to move around him, following, each other as if he was an obstacle obstructing any progress they desired, even if it was only for finite satisfaction...but that is all he can really assume. Most of these people wore odd clothing, clothing that stood out, but they were all so similar...so no one seemed to stand out. Most wore dark clothing, typically shorts with bright neon colors that didn't compliment each other, coming off more so as ugly as opposed to stylish. Some dressed similar to how he did, yet their clothing seemed to be made in a similar material to the newer ones, as opposed his own. Almost as if mocking their style, less than embracing his. It was all too much to take in, and it seemed that he may never fully comprehend.
He took out his old journal, careful to not harm any of the already fragile pages, flipping through to calm himself within the crowd. This made him stand out further, yet holding the journal in his hand, and rereading the familiar passages gave him an odd sense of security, reminding him that there's at least something that wasn't alien to him. Pulling out his pencil once more to add on, he remembered, he had no usable utensil with him, but only a piece of old wood that had seemingly outlived it's usefulness. "I'll find another...or a sharpener..." He told himself, placing it back into his pocket before maneuvering through the crowd. The crowd itself however, was only getting ever so thicker, almost drowning him, pushing him away from his unmarked path being the raging current it was.
It was useless, as he cannot fight against such a powerful force that were they, and thus threw himself to the side, and creeped into the shadows between buildings; the alleyways. There were no people here. All that resided here were old clothes, food, and carcasses of rodents that laid to be forgotten. No dumpsters, or trash disposals even, and the very ground beneath him was oddly natural. To the left, were the very river of humans he escaped from, determined to reach their destination, and to the left was rest of the alleyway, only opening up more so as it housed a removable grate to the unknown to him. Seeing however as there were trains that led beneath the earth, it wouldn't be to far-fetched to assume the grate led to a similar location.
The boy slid down against the wall, and exerted more carbon dioxide into the air around him as he breathed heavily. With little second thoughts, he proceeded to search the clothes around him for a writing utensil, so that he may...document his experiences. Such little has happened, but he has much to say. He eventually found a red, slick pen forever stained by dirt, and began to add on to the journal.
-ke them.
Everything is different.
He paused, and slammed the wall with his fist in disgust. He thought he had more to say, yet he can't put what he was feeling into words. "Everything is different...I suppose that's all I can say."