i'm working downtown for the first time—i can't keep it together. you wouldn't be able to point me out for doing so, but everyone else is walking around, completely oblivious as though we're not living in one of the greatest cities in the country—did you hear that soft hum? don't step out onto the curb yet, look up. do you not see the amazing that's happening around us?

then, momentarily, i'm spinning; my dress hikes up higher with every turn around the circumference. and i can't help but laugh—the people leaving work (even though it's pitch black outside) just seem to move around me, used to the eccentricities of living here. that just comes with the territory, walking among the weirdos to code a world-changing app—allegedly.

a driverless cab whizzes past, a neatly-dressed patron in its backseat; the so-called 'engine' powering it all no louder than a whisper. this is one of the few remaining, as increased congestion put us higher above ground. most cabs now rise into the sky-corridor before taking off toward your destination, but this one is still in operation from years past (and a helpful one for those who still consider the sky-corridor a dubious venture).

it takes me a moment, but i'm having a deep sense of understanding, as if i've been present for the moments that lead us here. i'm away from the throngs of workers now as my legs seem to take me elsewhere, one foot in front of the other and away from the insular culture that technology thrives on. worriedly, jargon becomes culture and the culture is the jargon; despite my creative soul being darkened with every workday that proceeds forward, it does not escape me that this is a life that many would kill for.

trust has come a long way—mostly in how we see trust and define it now, particularly in the post-internet age. there's not just the internet that makes us connected now; there are many systems that bind us, depending on which you're bought into. and surely, a company as large as the ones who take care of us now wouldn't harm us—could you imagine the press? we'll take the convenience and innovation in lieu of privacy (who needs it—criminals?), and eventually, it all becomes part of the routine, anyway. and of course, i'm not an activist by any means—now that word has such negative connotation—but i'm just a little concerned by the world that we've created.

i was so optimistic then, when i first began my career. we really thought we were changing the world, never once stopping to ask the question: what happens when the people who want to change the world actually do and proceed to rebuild it in the image we wanted all along?

my legs continue, one foot in front of the other, far past the neon signs advertising gourmet sushi, boba tea, and falafel—the ferry dock quickly approaches as my feet speed up, my heels knocking onto the dock wood like a metronome. the waves grow louder in the darkness as the lights fade behind me, orange basking on my face as the words SAN FRANCISCO PORT glow above me.

the wood under my feet gives way to air.

what image are we rebuilding the world in? according to who?

pour another?