The Little Prince

This city is strange. Every inch of land has meaning.

This is the consequence of overdevelopment, yet it has given rise to a bizarre, audacious beauty. Seen from above, it looks like shattered stained glass, a kaleidoscope that dazzles the eye. Steel-and-concrete buildings compete for the land beneath them even as they rush skyward. They are new kinds of plants born of technological evolution, growing taller year after year. Overpass after overpass winds among them like vines, making the city as complex as a rainforest.

You could stand very, very high, with everything beneath your feet. Gaze at the city from a place where you can smell the clouds, and poetry will rush to your brow like the dizzying haze of drunkenness. Everything is new! The spires of splendid towers are as fragile as newly sprouted twigs. No matter how far they stretch, they can only tickle the soles of your feet in an attempt to please you, forever separated from your skin by 0.01 centimeters of air.

Or you could venture deep inside. A rainforest ecosystem is complex; towering trees aren't the only ones with the right to survive. Close to the ground, the soft earth breathes out a warm, damp scent. That is the breath of life.