Every city has a story, to which a face is given, a cover that we can look at and decide if we like it or not. But where is the face of Manchester?
Everything is changing and the city pulses, it adapts and evolves guided by what we do. What we see and feel and create. A city filled with life. An entity beaming with talent and potential, beauty and love.. yet lost in the chaos, the violence, the pain. Everyday we walk the streets. do we look? Do we see? There are all these faces, pale and vacant or lost in the madness of the lives they created for themselves. Sharing the pavements but never acknowledging the other person, the other voices. I saw a woman today, ripped clothes, old shoes. but smiling. like she knew she had nothing but was happy. Her eyes drawn, almost dazed and gone but her hands clenching the lead as her dog lay panting, and she stared and stared, not a care in the world. This woman is the forgotten truth of Manchester, the essence of everything we've forgotten, pushed aside, lost in all our weaknesses . All these people working day after day, buying cars and phones and never satisfied never happy. greed is our downfall as a city. as a whole. Where is the face of Manchester? Buildings, higher and higher, every day something bigger and better something changing something new. our face is one of many colours, many emotions. our face is one that is uniting against all the wrong and changing for the better. A pulsing entity. A face of hope.
