I found myself dancing on Manhattan rooftops at one in the morning with nothing but the skyline and the distant sound of screeching tyres to keep me company and I love watching the sunrise over the city in the morning while drinking a big cup of coffee on my balcony and I found myself hoarding Chinese food boxes in my tiny apartment because I loved feeling like a true New Yorker and I would spend endless days in Central Park doing yoga and bike riding and strawberry picking and ice skating in winter because it felt like a magical jungle where anything could happen and all your dreams could come true and I basically lived down Broadway and Off Broadway and Off Off Broadway every night catching as many shows as my bank account allowed me to because I knew the feeling of being a struggling artist trying to make it with no support at all and even though I work a seemingly dead end job with shit pay in a city most people could only dream of travelling to and I’ve learnt to adapt and pick up my pace and I can now spot the tourists in the crowd because they’re looking up and around instead of looking forward and I’ve learnt that eating hot dogs and pretzels from carts on the side of the road isn’t as scary and unhygienic as it seems and although reading books in coffee shops is so overrated it’s how I like to spend my days off especially when it’s raining and the snow and cold is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before but a blanket over the city is gorgeous and it’s crazy how such a busy city can quiet down to nothing at all in the midst of a storm and I’ve gotten used to not driving anymore and taking the subway instead and in the city that never sleeps neither do I but that’s okay because I’m more alive than I have ever been and I’ve fallen in love with the neon lights and the busy traffic and the smell of cigarette smoke and the people and I’ve only been here for a short time but no place has ever felt like home.
Words by Carli Stasinopoulos.
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