You keep yourself to yourself. You have a selected number of friends you hang out with, but you keep your distance; you pay your monthly rent “in cash”; you get a job which doesn’t require you to state where you live – you keep your old address.
In your building you have neighbors – you don’t know them, they don’t know you. You feel something creepily peculiar in the phrase “unburied, un-… what was it?, unknown”, like dying at sea and the big city is the big sea and you drown into it although you might like to drown somewhere else.
You say, “I want to swallow this big city. Not this big city to swallow me.”
Until the water pipes in your apartment break. Major work needs doing inside the walls.
And the walls are only pipes now. Whatever flows in every direction, it has to go through you.