I cry each time I leave the city.
Its as if the contour of the city skyline is the prefect puzzle piece completing the jigsaw of my complexities. Like when I am here I am all of a sudden complete, and yet without this "Big Apple" I am anything but. Its true that I learn here, and take home with me new revelations each time I come, strengthened in some shape or form, yet I cant help but feel that there is something that I leave behind.
And I love the place.
I love so big that my love fills the streets and sidewalks, explodes through all places, until it boars through concrete and roots me firmly here, leaving some little piece of my very spirit deep in the heart of this urban oasis.
I walk these streets amidst the car horns, surrounded by the urban decay of tossed away newspapers and crumbling brick and i can't help but fall for all of her imperfections.
What I love about New York, is what I loved about Venice, two cities like old sages, different and yet alike in their attitude. Like Venice, New York is like fading movie star, wearing her scars proudly, signs of addiction, heartache on her sleeve. And while Venice seems to no longer try, letting the locals dress her for the tourists, New York still rocks the rhinestone studded heels, hot pink lipstick and fur coats. New York, comes and goes with bang, or more accurately a taxi horn.
The first time I came here I remember feeling the pull of this place, as if there is a gravity that yanks your forward to achieve. Opportunities for success are endless, there is not just one definition of reward here. So everyone is seemingly reaching for something better, something bigger than they have. Yes, this hub of capitalism creates a tangible, palatable desire within me to go forward, like I get swept up in the current of some great river pushing me forward forever towards my dreams.
I imagine that this is what settlers felt, once they completed their Atlantic journey and first laid eyes on the Statue of Liberty.
While I am sure that the world holds many places that inspire, what I love about New York is that not only does she urge you to reach your destination but she challenges you to do it as loudly ad boldly as one could ever dream. Rhinestone studded heels, boas, lipstick and all.
Life is a party, a broadway musical, a late night cabbarret and steamy backroom encounter. NY life is sexy, edgy, sultury, seductive and ruthlessly unappologetic.
If home is where the heart is...mine is in the streets of New York.
I walk these streets amidst the car horns, surrounded by the urban decay of tossed away newspapers and crumbling brick and i can't help but fall for all of her imperfections.
What I love about New York, is what I loved about Venice, two cities like old sages, different and yet alike in their attitude. Like Venice, New York is like fading movie star, wearing her scars proudly, signs of addiction, heartache on her sleeve. And while Venice seems to no longer try, letting the locals dress her for the tourists, New York still rocks the rhinestone studded heels, hot pink lipstick and fur coats. New York, comes and goes with bang, or more accurately a taxi horn.
The first time I came here I remember feeling the pull of this place, as if there is a gravity that yanks your forward to achieve. Opportunities for success are endless, there is not just one definition of reward here. So everyone is seemingly reaching for something better, something bigger than they have. Yes, this hub of capitalism creates a tangible, palatable desire within me to go forward, like I get swept up in the current of some great river pushing me forward forever towards my dreams.
I imagine that this is what settlers felt, once they completed their Atlantic journey and first laid eyes on the Statue of Liberty.
While I am sure that the world holds many places that inspire, what I love about New York is that not only does she urge you to reach your destination but she challenges you to do it as loudly ad boldly as one could ever dream. Rhinestone studded heels, boas, lipstick and all.
Life is a party, a broadway musical, a late night cabbarret and steamy backroom encounter. NY life is sexy, edgy, sultury, seductive and ruthlessly unappologetic.
If home is where the heart is...mine is in the streets of New York.
3 comments:
I get it I get it.... but promise when you'll move there we'll visit often. M<3M
P.S. You wrote it so interesting that I would almost move there.
Don't worry ma, you'll have your own bedroom in the brownstone.
xoxo
B
New York certainly is the place to be, lady.
Post a Comment