Acrid tangs asphyxiate casual passers by, their breaths oblivious to the poison that lingers in their periphery. Lights blaze, a fantastical odyssey of red, yellow and the green of malice. They push and shove in the masses until they become one collective throng. The heat from vehicles is tangible, tantamount to the anger that diffuses from bodies. Buildings tower, a patriarchal display of metal and cladding. They loom over their people, a silent hierarchy of sound and noise that fails to be punctuated by silence. The city never sleeps. A hierarchy of sound and light that will never be dismantled.