Inner CIty Life, Inner CIty Pressure.

Running deliveries in a busy coastal city on my Yamaha 125cc, too much traffic, way more people than there used to be. Parked outside Japanese iced tea shop waiting for bleeps. Crackhead with can of beer dressed in a cow onesie screams at some stranger. I get an order and pick up the iced tea. Armour on, on route. The phone is strapped to my arm but the velcro is getting worn, it falls off as I'm riding. I try not to slam on the brakes, slow down then turn round to get it. One truck came, I'm waving trying to get him to see, it misses, then more cars and another truck. I cant have this phone break right now. Seems like nothing hit it except the road. I pick it up, a big inky crack across the glass and hairline fractures. It still works. Manage to get to the destination even tho I can only read one digit of the address. Mission Complete. Taking chinese food to this street, cant read it properly, there's a note "The alley next to the golden dragon hostel" oh I know the place. Down that alley, down a flight of steps there's a intercom and a door, a door to a whorehouse. I know it well. I pull up and see the lady of the night in her comfy early morning clothes, I look her in the eye as I pass the food and she thanks me. Its a nice gaze, knowing that for £80 I can go back in there and bang her. Back on the road, along the seafront, its sunny but with a cold Spring wind. Some guy slowly moves into my lane like Im not there. I sound my horn and yell at him a bit as he apologises. I get triggered, Ive been to hospital when someone did this b4, but cut quickly right across my lane, like I wasnt there. Suddenly Im calm again. Run some more orders. Sometime later the engine wont start, fuarrrk I need to work...I get it going again. No one said this was easy. Chaotic and Raw, it must be how I like it. Tell me your story.

Wake. Pour coffee from timer-activated pot to travel mug, add breakfast and lunch to backpack. Take the bus, then a bit later read on the metro. Get to work making software that barely doesn't qualify as malware, because the entity behind it has money. Go back home. Microwave next meal. Watch some entertaining media (anime?) while waiting and eating. Put some music on, work on personal projects or free software, play games or soykafpost. Go to sleep. Repeat.

>>3242 Not OP, btw. Just felt like going for a far more "ground-down and zombified" feel.

Wake to the sound of chirping birds and passing cars/ big ass trucks. the van rocks as traffic flies by at 10-15+ over the speed limit in the residential area I have slithered into for the night. -VRRRRROOOOOOSHHHH- mildly encrusted eyes flutter open at the sound of a passing car. A skinny figure rustles inside a black modular sleeping bag suspended above the floor in a colorful hammock, rocking to and fro in the wake of the car. A sigh can be heard as a cloud of moistened breath billows out into the cool, dark, cave like atmosphere of the van. An arm slithers out of the small face hole of the sleeping bag deftly groping for a heater switch at arms length. ‘Click’ the hand hits the switch and a soft orange glow illuminates the interior and simultaneously casts jagged shadows across the arching walls, releasing a soft whirr of activity from the small heater. 30 minutes pass until suddenly, the sleeping bag splits open like an egg sac, or maybe a banana, birthing the awakened man inside. He folds his legs over the edge of the hammock and plants both feet and a hand on the wooden floor beside. As he lifts out of the hammock, practically rolling into a crawling position, he stands up on his knees and takes a look at the small metal bar labeled “Nokia”. A bright white glow illuminates his face, young features, male, white, dark brown almost black eyes, all topped by short unkempt hair. The numbers on the nokia tell the time to be 8:30 AM on the morning of December 2nd 2018. A thumb holds a button, the nokia responds with a soft click and a bright white LED illuminates on the back, filling the room with a sharp yellow tinged glow. The morning circuit begins, as the man rummages through his various bins looking for the days clothing, suitable to the chill outside, and of course, brushing his teeth, scrubbing his crevices and orifices, and cleaning his various surfaces always hunching, crouching, or kneeling under the short 4 foot roof of his abode. A thermometer in the corner, points silently to the number 60, the goosebumps across his body tell another story however, as the man changes from warm hunting thermals, to jeans, wool socks, boots, two long sleeve shirts, quilted vest and a gray fleece hoody. A look in the crooked mirror confirms it, he has transformed into the spitting image of a garden variety city dweller, a proper gray man, suited to blending in with concrete sidewalks, sheer office walls and thronging humans with their winter coats. Menacing in his banality, and uncannily mundane, he is ready to take on the chill Baltimore morning. The slender man crouches and slithers out of his lair onto the sidewalk, the rays of the heatless and early northeastern sun casting his long shadow down the pavement. Passerby jog on, towed by their dogs and children paying no heed to their silent neighbor. I unchain my bike from the bumper of my van and get psyched to dodge some traffic as I pedal the 10 miles to work through downtown. The bike keeps me warm as my throbing heart pushes me ever ownwards past the ransacked and squatted row houses, the various interesting characters and colorful murals, and finally the green and yellow bridge, it's dingy greens and yellows greeting me as I arrive at my co-working space. I get to working on the secretive little projects my company has assigned me. A little voice note in a kindly german accent reminds me to check the schedule for meetings and document my changes for the day. The sounds of 3d printing, piezo actuators, laser cooling systems and futurefunk drive my day to dusk. I return to my lair that night after nearly 12 hours of experimentation and crash shortly after securing my steed to it's hitching post. Green lighted security patrols zoom past me as I climb into my home for another cold night.