New York, part two (Tim’s move, this time)
New York, are you not happy to see me? Tomorrow I’m moving to the city, the city. I’m tired, I’m huddled, I yearn to breathe free. I’m coming, open; open those gates.
Who am I? I’m the last person that wanted to come. And it hit like a freight train. Like a sudden whoosh it came in. I’m trying, New York City. Man, I’m trying. I want to be the person, coming into the city, that never sleeps; I want to be a part of it.
But, hell, it’s scary, right? It’s a big place. It’s a big thing. It’s just so big. It’s all the people down on the ground and buildings going up to the sky. Nothing breathes there. All tight walls, and close turns. Chicago is almost gone from my mind. Everything gets eclipsed.
I’m in Wilmington writing this, missing Chicago and Maryland, and loving my hometown. But I’m excited about New York. And it’s a huge, big, bounding leap. And that’s okay. Leaps happen.
I guess what I want, or what I feel, is this:
I can look out, from a train, in the distance. In my mind, I see it. New York City is in the distance. The sharp edges of skyscrapers are cutting a lighted silhouette. An amber hue sinks over the middle distance, my eyes glazed over. I know where I’m headed, and it’s on the horizon line and that is fine by me. The steady whir, the train’s pistons chucking steam, they keep moving and so do I. My eyes will be sunken and tired and hang with the bags of a day’s work. The day will turn to night and the air will turn cold.
But the city, it refracts the light in brilliant angles. New York is never happy to see me. And to think otherwise is unthinkable. Why would that big jumble want to see me? But anybody can come in. It’s always open, the city. Its neon buzzes indefinitely.
The city never wanted me. It never wanted anyone. But it never turned anyone down. It’s a goliath, hanging over the distance. But I’m going in. And I’ll find the center of it all. I’ll look up. I’ll watch the skyscraper lights fade into the cold black of the nighttime sky. I’ll fall asleep with my mind racing. And I will have no idea what the morning will bring.