I am moving tomorrow. I am leaving NYC behind. As I sit here in my apartment that is so cozy and feels like HOME to me I'm not really seeing that sink in. I think I should be crying my eyes out and calling everyone I love and telling them so over and over. I am aware of the strength of my defenses more than I am able to feel the pain of the preface to this transition. I think it may be because, in my mind, I have been swallowing this a piece at a time and although I am full following each course, I know the dessert is worth waiting for.
Today Tangent was my rock and my hero. He helped tackle the stuff that was left that I was avoiding as long as I could. He and I had a superstar couple of hours of packing up the Jeep and completing Mission Post Office Hudson. It was hard work but we stayed strong and kicked ass!
Tonight I'm sitting here on my stained couch watching my hot flat-screen tv that's sitting on a random table chair. To my left is a 8ft x 5ft box - marked with green hoop tape on the floor - that I've started piling my numbered boxes in. I still have shit all over but I'm pretty sure my organization skills are above average and I'm really not afraid to say so.
My pets are acting intimidated with a side of sadness and shame. I have prepared their travel area and bags very well and am happy to have a comfy area scoped out so they feel pimped out. My little pimps.
So long, New York. You brought me up. You showed me how it is and challenged the shit out of me. I think I put up a good fight, and for the record... you not-even-once intimidated me. Let's make that clear. You were my playground and to some parts of me, my grave. You made me forget my real priorities and blinded me with the excitement of accumulation and materialism. But you also sat next to me on the subway in your religious garb eating the smelliest, nastiest shit I've ever seen. I love you for that.
My love goes out to this big city tonight. The lights that surround me. The dirty subways down the stairs. The people speaking other languages and celebrating holidays I've never heard of. The people who sit on a subway together... the businessmen, students, blue collar, white collar, homeless, dirty, perfectly dressed, stroller-carrying nannies, douchebags, blue shirt army lieutenants, artsy freaks, hip-hop groups, mariachi bands, high school kids, tourists, tourists, too many tourists, breakdancers, loud ugly couples fighting and sweet people who shoot you a sly smile.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment