this city.

this city beats you.

i never came here starry eyed.

only once, on a brooklyn waterfront years ago, did i take in a river view of the nighttime skyline through a chainlink fence and i felt myself break open with the sheer size of it all, the idea of chance, the idea of everything. i took it all in with someone who loved me and i have never recaptured that feeling. it all became too real.

it’s different when you walk the same block every day to an office that could just as easily be above a deli in a shopping plaza in the suburbs. its different when it’s just your life, with its encouragements and pitfalls, it’s normalness. the stereotypes are true. people here move fast and mean. they have no patience for your bullshit – they are self-absorbed and mindless and i can’t say i’m so different, i give the same nasty looks when i get bumped and jostled. i’ve whacked cars with things i’m carrying when they cut me off crossing the street. i’ve yelled at people playing music out loud on the train. this city is a breeding ground for thoughtlessness.

i never came here to chase a dream.

i appreciate what i have here in the same way we appreciate oxygen. it’s become so normal. of course i can go to a museum or see a broadway show if i want. i can eat delicious cuisine. what they don’t tell you is that all of that costs way more money than you can possibly afford. i’d be interested to see a study on the credit card debt of new yorkers. they seduce you with opportunity and perceived need until you’ve run yourself dry.

so, no, i don’t see the magic, really. pavement sparkles in moonlight when everything else is dimmed and hidden. the magic here is tucked away in small pockets, it’s a temperamental slut who only reveals herself when she’s had a few too many, and she keeps her cards close. it is not everywhere, it is not always, and i’m not very sure it’s worth the chase.

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