Ode to New York City
New York City. Need I say more? A city so vibrant, so subtly effervescent yet so fascinatingly enigmatic. It leaves you wanting more.
You can never get enough of it. Of the vibe. You simply can’t put a finger on which part of it that your soul so soulfully devours.
Is it the towering skyscrapers? Is it the cuisines of food trucks? Is it Brooklyn? The Upper East Side? The electric buzz of strangers as you brush their shoulders when you cross the streets or getting squished in the subway?
But there’s one thing you’re sure of. You just can’’t get enough of it. It is intoxicating but not to the point of exhausting. It doesn’t feed off your vibe. It is something else. Something foreign yet familiar — a once upon dream now lived? It was your first time there but it felt like you’ve returned from wherever you’ve been — into the electric buzz of an embrace- a home. You’re just not sure. The thought eats at you -knowing that you will be leaving this place that somehow strangely felt like home. Knowing that it will be a while until you come back. It is like the missing piece in your puzzle of life- that you thought was already complete.
There’s a word for it. Onism (thanks The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows). You experience it two times over and there’s nothing you can do about it.
As you look out to the window hoping that you can devour the scene by taking a careful mental picture of it when your plane takes off — that’s when it hit you.
New York, you’re just something else.
((And i “hate” you for that)).
- It has been months since November and I still have not moved on. Who possibly in their right mind could?