In this city no one knows me.
How I look, what I wear, how poor or rich I am, whom I love or befriend, what species of monkey I bring to mind, what I should or shouldn't do, how I must live and how I mustn't— no one thinks about any of this.
No one has time to stare at me pointlessly, to watch my movements, to linger over my words.
The people of this city are busy, civilized, sensible. They have neither the time nor the inclination to judge anyone.
Whom I walk with or sleep with, when I eat or when I sleep, whether I use high mode or not, whether I'm married or single, whether I spit or swallow when I have phlegm, what religion, caste, taste, opinion I hold— none of these things give anyone in this city a headache.
Alas, this city is not my city!