Do you notice the families of superhighways that pummel their way through the city like a river, teaming with determined and regimented oily fish?
Do you notice the heavyset brutalist concrete slabs that still jut out everywhere, making up lifestyles for maybe hundreds and thousands and millions of those linked swimming fish, despite the unspeakable failures of the collectivist utopian principles associated with the architecture style and your heartland itself?
Do you see hanging laundry? Does it make up a colourful tapestry -- like the series of monochromatic boxes and buildings down there below?
Do you strain to catch a glimpse of the green patch way out there, that little postage stamp which served as your high school football field, even though you never played, wondering who runs out there now?

Do you wonder if there really are gangsters in the walled streets of Pudong, more down there by the sea, working the streets, for a brief moment caught in a pause, looking up at apartments aimlessly, just dreaming, about whatever?
Do you try to guess how much more of the sky will be taken up by those blobs and squares and art pieces, that shoot up like weeds, and in less than a month?
Are you escaping from bills, or incompetence, or that thing you're ashamed of, not looking at anything, but just letting your eyes glaze over?
Are you thinking about the networks -- phone lines, satellite receivers, optic fibers and radio waves -- that keep gamers together, gathered in market shops, to converse and battle with icons?

Maybe you're letting your mind run wild, trying to get on that new train -- to turn the tides of the market so you can make your own gains.
Maybe you're calm on the outside but terrified on the inside, thinking of all those other who have been captured, knowing you could be next (you've done enough already -- they wouldn't have trouble coming up with a reason).
Maybe all you want is out, and you just can't see a way, despite all your best efforts and all that humiliation.

Or maybe you feel completely at ease, finally tranquil, looking out over all this knowing you're a part; you have a stake here, cleaning all these stream fish of the dirt and the burdens, glad to contribute to the society, to what's best for this family...

I don't know, though. I'm only imagining.