How I already miss the city.
The constant horns, the angry drivers, the "yea, well, I'm taking your right of way from you" attitudes.
The casual walkers, the mile-long treks, the endless passerbys.
The convenient inconveniences, the impossible possibilities, the illogical desires.
Subways, the Taco Truck, parallel parking.
The city is mysterious.
It has its own charm.
Everything you expect to hate, you quickly come to love.
There is no reason, no single explanation you can come up with for why it is so alluring.
Because in all reality, none exist.
The city is crowded, expensive, unclean, and angry.
Road rage?
Mabye on a calm day...
And yet.. these detriments come to be the very factors that draw you in.
Why?
.. let me re-phrase that.
WHY?
I have no idea.
Middle America snubs its nose at the notion of New York City living..
... only because it hasn't experienced confusion for itself.
Yes, confusion.
Because that's precisely what it is:
confusing.
It's cranky, yet content.
It's busy, yet relaxing.
It's taxing, yet refreshing.
Nothing, nothing beats a view of the florescence of Manhattan's skyline at night from across the East River.
Nothing beats the Hipster Town uniqueness of Williamsburg.
Nothing beats the immense eye-of-the-storm tranquility of Central Park.
The vast differences a single mile makes are incredible.
Suburban Queens to bouncing Brooklyn.
Bouncing Brooklyn to corporate Downtown.
Corporate Downtown to commercial Midtown.
Commercial Midtown to residential Uptown.
... and then there's the Bronx.
Each and every one is essentially a different world.
The varieties are infinite.
Never would I be able to see all that the city has to show me.
It is simply impossible.
And yet, that is not a reason for disappointment.
It is a reason for hope.
For excitement.
For never would life be bland in the city.
Never would there be nothing to do.
New York, New York...
.. how I miss thee.
