Essay On The Subway

And I do feel the insanity of living this illicit life and not caring. I have discarded every value I was raised with and found something that works for me. The old life and old values betrayed me to the extreme. This new life works for me. I embrace it. And I buy a Smith and Wesson revolver. At the gun shop I make sure it will kill. I have come to the brutal realization my government does not care about me. This torturer-killer has done this before. He will do this again. And who will care? Certainly, not the middle class I was raised among living in comfort and safety. He is a serial killer and loves what he does. I could see it in his eyes as he pondered murdering me. I could feel the evil in his soul possessed by the powerfully demonic as his eyes turned black. I will carry this with me to my grave. My soul is shattered into painful pieces. The pain pervades every moment of my continuing nightmare life. This nightmare never ends. I do not fear death for I am in hell. Death would be a welcome relief. I know every feeling of the women who die and are still dying along the Highway of Tears and all over Canada. The betrayal, terror, feeling of abandonment; pain is my daily life. This book is dedicated

The hidden purpose of the subway system which Jurgis helps to construct is to break the teamsters’ union. Because Jurgis got hit by one of the rail freight cars, he broke his arm and lost his job.

The New York City Subway System has an extremely rich and detailed history that dates to the late nineteenth century. Before the system that the public currently takes advantage of when they visit New York City, there were an extensive amount of public transportation options that were available to the general public. For example, horse and carriages, omnibuses, and trolley systems were all used as a means of transportation throughout the nineteenth century. Once the idea for a subway system to be built was introduced, most people did not believe that it was possible. However, they were soon proven wrong after Alfred E. Beach secretly built the first subway system that was used in New York City. Once people saw that subterranean travel was a viable means of transportation, it did not take long until the subway system that is used today to come along. The New York City subway system revolutionized the way the general public traveled throughout the city, and inspired other growing cities to build subterranean travel systems of their own.

Riding the subway to a New York City resident is nothing new. It’s something that many of us New Yorkers have to use as transportation because living in a crowded city with limited space to drive is not very ideal. For the people who do drive, they do so for personal comfort and convenience. But for us commuters, having to not look for parking and worry about traffic takes up less of our time. On the other hand we experience train delays and disturbances in personal space. Nonetheless, the pros outweigh the cons and using the subway has become a part of our daily routines for many of us New Yorkers. Marc Auge states that, “If he draws himself into the field of his ethnological inquiry, it is no less fitting for his readers to broaden the scope of appreciation of the work for riders.” With that in mind, I observed the connections with my experience riding the subway in a city integrated with many different peoples and cultures.

“Just so you know” she sobs. “My family isn’t so perfect either. Yes. My parents have remained married. Sure, on the outside we look good. But a couple of years ago I found out that my mother had an affair. My mother cheated and…” She shoves a finger at her chest. “I am a product of that affair.”

“So yeah, some people may have been approached to discuss the plan -it wasn’t us.”

“Who’s they?” he wanted to know. “Who, specifically, do you think is trying to murder you?”

She just rolls her eyes, before doubting him. “Are you sure the goods are safer here?”

Everyone’s eyes are on me. My throat constricts. What if I mess up? Everyone would laugh at me, or I could hurt myself badly. Suddenly the stress is too much. I am overcome by such intense anxiety that I collapse and start hyperventilating. Everyone crowds around me, asking if I’m alright, which just makes it worse. I have to get out. I push everyone out of the way and run to the bathroom.

“Yes, but thats not the point. You’ve made yourself noticed twice today. Thats not good.”

“I see it as a death sentence. I really don’t know how he could survive with the combination of targets on his back,” she added.

“Yeah, I'm sure she'll never lighten up. Not when I'm around.” A grunt came from my throat. “And that a fact my friend.”

are hundreds of airports just like this one all around the world. I cannot be intimate with a location that is constantly repeated because it does not exist as an individual place. The structure of the airport does not require individuality in order to function. Its production of repetition and homogeneity is the basis for its efficiency worldwide because it creates an order through which people's movements can be controlled smoothly.” Those places have become spaces of transition, junkspace. They usually don’t carry notions of history of cultures. They don’t contain within themselves enough spirit of quality spaces. People move in and out without experiencing them as meaningful moments to be inhabited. People come to the airport in order to leave. They pass through a series of hall ways in such a hasty pace with anxieties to get to final destinations.

Where can I escape the madness and chaos? A place so far of the reach way from

Typical, it is 7:31 am Monday morning and I am running late. Knowing it will take approximately twenty minutes for me to make it to 8:00 am lecture on time, I grab my book bag hastily lock my apartment door and fly down the slightly stained cement stairs. In less than sixty-seconds, I miraculously made it from the third to the first floor without falling. I congratulate myself and hop in my old reliable dusty gray, 2011 Toyota. At last, I arrive to campus just in time to park in the closest lot near the School of Nursing building making it to my first lecture of the day with ten minutes to spare. This seems like a small and normal morning routine for some, for others who do not have