YOU KNOW YOU’RE IN NEW YORK WHEN…
“Concrete jungle where dreams are made of”.
I could finally see it, feel it, all of it, what everyone ever meant and spoke about. Why they loved it. How it made life seem to be filled with possibility. New York was never my number one, but I was starstruck by every bit of its presence. I usually have moments in each city I visit, moments that leave you taken aback for a good hour or so, for example entering Rome’s Basilica for the first time or seeing the Parthenon nestled in the mountain in Athens. For the first time a city’s mere existence just maintained this feeling from when I got out at Penn Station until I left. I don’t know what it is about New York City that is so enigmatic, so romantic. And it begs you to stay, enticing you with all its charms with every corner you take, pleading you to open your eyes and see all the opportunity it holds. It really is all that they say it is, and more. Coming from someone who is hardly phased by any destination anymore, this is quite a statement. It even managed to keep Leonor’s endless sarcasm at bay, although she quite enjoyed my discomfort when I was feeling a bit swag-ish and the the hoodrats and bruvva’s yelled at me, “NICE SHOES, MA!” and “Ay yo, gurrr, I like yo’ styyyy[le]!”. She hates it when I dress tres gangstah.
She and I explored the city on a tuk-tuk type of carriage drawn by some poor soul on a bicycle. It was a perfect, warm summer’s night and we smiled like complete idiots the entire time because we couldn’t grasp the magnitude of how fantastic life was. There were too many movie moments, too many things I still can’t believe and just can’t get over.
You really are a gem, New York. I finally understand the Empire State of Mind.