Something I wrote - mid panic attack - to cure my thoughts about the city I reside in. 

 

 

Welcome to New York City

You’ll know you’ve made it when you are sobbing in the middle of Times Square and you couldn’t even begin to think of why, how, or when the tears started happening. You try to imagine how it is possible that you are surrounded by literally a million people and not one of them notices or chooses not to talk to you – and, you don’t want them to talk to you because, hello that is a complete stranger!

But you know you’ve made it here, in New York City.

 

Welcome to New You City

Where drugs and therapy are provided but not typically at the same time. I don’t mean prescription drugs. I mean the good ones. The addictive ones. The drugs that are felt in every being of your body when you haven’t consumed anything.

Drugs like sitting at a bar until 4am when you have a 9am science class the next day when you go to art school. Who knows or cares if you are going to leave the bar and stumble home, because you don’t need science you’re an artist damn it.

Funny, the scientist doesn’t think they need art either.

You sit there, mixing alcohol, blowing off all the drinking rules you grew up pretending to know. Liquor before beer you’re in the clear.But you still have a hangover the next day even if you chose the wise choice of avoiding to mix.

My question is when does wine come into play? After the beer? Before the liquor? Or are you just supposed to simultaneously be drinking wine at all times?You’re addicted to the drug of wanting to be noticed in a sea of millions of drunk fish each one bigger and drunker than the next.

The drugs that are legal greens you smoke. To feel numb or cool. Or both. You got it free from your Caribbean landlord so you have to accept, and you already own that pipe so you gotta smoke it. The addictive free obligated drowsiness.

The drugs that are the people – meeting strangers to feel a high – a high that is different to each person you lock eyes with hoping to be one of the same souls.

Hoping your other half is out there and you will be the other half to your puzzle piece. But it turns out the pieces are all from different puzzles that happened to be in the wrong box, because let’s be real, no one really keeps all the puzzle pieces together when cleaning up God just threw them into different cities amongst the world and expects us to bend and squeeze and twist the edges together until they are forced to fit – so the people are impossible, we’re all just stuck in the wrong puzzle.

Welcome to New York City

Where there is every food in the world yet you never know what to eat.

“Just smoke cigarettes to be skinny

No those kill you

No the $1 pizza kills you

No the skinny bitches on the build board kill you

It’s so unsettling to the point of humorous that we as a society are trying to be all equality and body conscious at the same time – Just glance at the poster on the construction wall and tell me skinny is out – The truth is people like skinny bitches. But now days people like big boobs and asses and guys with abs, but we have to pretend that those are ridiculous ideals to want because they are ridiculous things to achieve

So don’t smoke those cigarettes! Or eat that pizza! and maybe you won’t die from ash and grease but the self-hate will get ya in the end

Welcome to New York City

Where you can be an artist because you showed up.

Welcome to New York City

We’re all “broke”

We’re all “in debt”

We all have “student loans”

We all pretend to have no money but let me tell you That is not true my friend! because if you and I we’re broke we wouldn’t be sitting here we’d be on the street asking for money for drugs to feel better – not sitting here in our brand name shoes – or even knock off shoes whatever damn shoes you are wearing I can almost guarantee you didn’t steal or barter for them you bought them with money.

Now days middle class means broke.

Middle class is broken because we always want more than we already have.

We live at excess.

An excess most people around the world will call you rich and wish to be as broke as you and I.

Welcome to New York City

You’re not going to fall in love.

You’re going to hate yourself for hating all those people who appear in love holding hands down the street. You’re going to feel bitter and wonder how they met or if they had sex that morning. You’re going to pretend you’re here to be in love with yourself but in reality you just want to be warm for once in April. Warm like someone is holding you, or you know you are on the way to be held. Warm in April like you’re not sure if you like the arms around you but you accept the gesture of the open arm – because you know those arms can make you feel less cold and less alone.

It’s okay to be cold. It’s okay to be cold. But to be cold and alone is a feeling all too familiar for those of us hiding in our coats and earphones on the way to no one.

 

Welcome to New York City

You’ll forget to look up. You’ll spend most of your time looking at the ground trying not to step on shit or in rats. You won’t mind the trash, truly you won’t. You’ll wish everyone’s Friday night was yours. You’ll leave shit in cabs. You’ll throw up on the street. You’ll spend over $50 at a bar and feel more hung-over because of the guilt the next day. You will no longer be surprised by rich Indian princess who spend thousands on a night out. You will miss very person you have ever met. You’ll hate your roommate. You’ll hate your best friend. You will not care about seeing famous people on the street. You’ll never like Times Square. You will take the subway the wrong direction more times than you should. You will not be excited by random street performances. You will not give money to homeless people. You will for a split second be flattered by the catcall. You will be sweating in 30-degree weather. You will sleep at night imagining what your life would be like if you never moved to New York City, and sometimes you’ll like it.

But you will not leave here. Because the second you take a step as far as Jersey you’ll long for New York City, long for the bitterness and sadness it fills you with, because it’s better than feeling nothing.

 

Welcome to New York City