Everyone’s face is a blur; there is no such thing as an identity. People walk right passed you and cars speed towards you without any care for your safety and existence. It is okay as long as they can defer punishment.

Perhaps it is a bad thing to secretly enjoy wandering around drunk in a city that forgives and recognizes no one. Everyone is anonymous. It is okay to make a fool out of yourself—you’ll be forgotten as soon as the next fool seeking acknowledgement comes stumbling by.