Georgia

I used to live in New Hampshire. Now I live in Savannah, Georgia, United States. It's a city like Concord but instead of parks with flat grass and man made structures; with concrete; and tall buildings with glass walls. But instead here there is cobblestones in patterns of red, brown, and gray; gardens with flowers and smooth white tile paths; and the town is set up on a grid with each church indictating a community, a way of life, and sometimes sadly a race. There's a strict dignity here and social structure.

In citys there is a survival principle called the isolationalist principle. It's where you walk in a straight lines with your body upright, and your head turned slightly down enough to look away from people's faces, but not enough to not notice who's around. It's body language that says I'm not a threat but I'll make sure you aren't either. It makes you invisible as anything but a body without a mind to someone else; you wear a suit or a bum, just a label that allows some kind of safety. Here even though it's a city, some blocks seem to have that survival instinct and some don't. My cousin says you only live because you may die. She uses the example "Live Like you are Dieing," by Tim McGraw. So next time someone leans out a window and hails me, I'll try not to jump and walk away. I'll take a little chance of death just to be able to see and be seen. I'll give a little wave and maybe if I'm daring a smile.