Stuck in New York City
I want to leave the city. I want to move somewhere new, somewhere I’ve never been before. I want to find a new career, a new life, new friends and a new home. I want to build a home. I want to build a place I’m proud to call my home.
I want room to paint. I want room to cook. I want a place to sit outside. I want peace and quiet. I want a place to read, a place to sleep, a place to watch TV, a place to be me.
I want to drive a car. I want to stand on the beach. I want to know all of the people in my town. I want to smile at people while I walk down the street. I want to feel big enough to make a difference.
I want, but I don’t need. I don’t need any of it. I just need to be here, because here is now. Here is where I have responsibilities. Here is where my life is until it isn’t.
Here is New York City. Here is where I’m stuck. Here is where I couldn’t think to be anywhere else. Here is where I’m a part of anything and everything all at once. Here is both heaven and hell.
Here is New York City.
