Nueva York

While working in a coffeeshop in Brussels, I just got caught up in new york city memories. I find myself walking down certain streets, when everything is envelopped in that golden light, a warm evening behaving so gently, glimmers on the hudson and reflects itself off the skyscrapers. 1 $ pizzas, the red brickhouses in the west village, the homeless, the hustlers and the question “what the fuck am I doing here” . Queens, chinatown, central park, the incredible energy and waste of a city that never sleeps. Ideas that go places, next steps, plans, angry taxi drivers take you there, its that one big goal at the end of the road, the american dream in all its beauty and brutality… subways devouring and spitting out passengers, sunsets like bruises, lovers that you forget, people you will always remember, in a city that would be just fine without you, understanding one another becomes a holy commitment, cause where everything has a price, what’s free becomes this surreal reward everyone fights for, somehow forgetting, it was never on sale….and at the end of the day it’s all that matters. Being heard here would make you feel like a movie star, like your life really matters, but what you get is that strange isolation, a lot of money for a lot of choices, interrupted by moments like these: kids playing with a water hose in some backyard in Brooklyn. A drug dealer telling you that he loves his pigeons more than his girl. And that feeling, that feeling..that you don’t belong there

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