The sad things about being back in NYC, is that I can't help but continue to feel like the scum of the earth. Here some women are proud that their diets consist of yogurt, cigarettes, sashimi and cocaine and the expectation to be posh, well dressed, in the know, in the game and impossibly thin is extremely high. A million out of towners come to this city yearning for something different, to achieve a dream, to make it big and gain money, wealth, power, status, sex. In our quest to make it somewhere, many will work very very hard to capture a glimmer of their dreams, others will crow their inflated abilities, ride other people's coat tails, back stab, betray, use and abuse innocent people. New York will grant many their wish but it will break many more people. In the process of abusing ourselves, abusing others and desperately grasping for our dreams, we try to grasp for things in as stylish and posh a manner as possible. The white-collar television, movie lifestyle that the public sees is mostly fiction and life in NYC can have its moments when the people and the city itself will kick you in the stomach. On the other hand, there are days when the unbelievable happens, your dreams come true, you gain opportunities you could never dream, or your idol stands right next to you--which makes living here so worthwhile. Simply being in a place with so much colorful histories, stories, famous luminaries also makes us proud. Most people here pay exorbitant rents, put up with the lack of privacy, lack of peace and quiet, lack of fresh air, lack of space and neighborhood feel in return for easy access to some of the best art, music, food, opportunities in the world. You can be very alone in a crowded subway train which is reassuring at times and bitterly lonesome.
In a city of millions strangers with our soaring sky scrapers you believe in the power of human desire and imagination. Our own personal Mt. Everest to conquer is in the shape of an office building, concert hall, art museum, stadium, etc. You believe, because you have put up with the abuse and been part of that hike up our man-made Mt. Everest that you are now special. I AM A NEW YORKER! You tell the world and you sort of expect everybody to be impressed. After traveling the world I know for sure now, a lot of people outside of NY and America don't really care. In Istanbul, they welcomed me to paradise as I walked around blue fountains and lush parks near the Blue Mosque. In Beijing, a proud people showed me their imperial city and the remains of a 4000 year civilization as they ambitiously rip their country apart environmentally to reinstate their past glories on the world stage. In Kapadokya, they scoffed at our 200 year old history as they showed me 1000 year old buildings and took me to see the whirling dervishes dance in a trance for spiritual development. In Italy, life varies from angry and vibrant in Naples, refined and elegant in Florence, proud and sturdy of history and religion in Rome; and in all three cities food is enjoyed with gusto and patience, families are important and warmth can be felt in people. In St. Petersburg, you see buildings of immense wealth, beauty and power that once was, while in Moscow, an extremely popular Putin pushes to bring back Russia to its former world power status. In Iceland, nature crushes you down with giant glaciers, cliffs, volcanoes, waterfalls and geysers that majestically rebuff any human developments as the cold wind beats against your face. Having lived in NY, you always believed that you are the center of the world, that you are important because New York has so much, beats you up, makes you stronger and because you have been here. But in reality, in the continuum of time, space, people and nature New York is simply a cock-sure, immature, 20 something year old in a world of mature adults. I love New York, for all that it is, but I also hate it from the bottom of my heart sometimes because now I know for sure that there is life worth living outside of this tiny island.
No comments:
Post a Comment