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Suddenly, New York

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As I step out the train, I trace my usual path to the stairs marked by the “Essex/Delancey NW corner” signs. In my back, I can still feel the sudden gush of air announcing that my train has just left the platform. There I am, part of the big swarm of rush hour commuters going home. And then it hits me: I live in NY. I LIVE IN NY!

It’s a city where one uncovers a boulangerie that welcomes a good read in one of its wide antique chairs, where one inadvertently gets a tour of the posh Upper West Side while running (with their friend Seno) the perimeter of famous Central Park, finds a plethora of ethnic restaurants to choose from in Little India, and at the end of the night, still stumbles into an awesome live music show even as he/she is still being plagued by heartburn from said Indian restaurant. All the possibilities in the world unraveling in front of him/her in just one weekend.

This is what makes this city with trapping skyscrapers, endless garbage piles that magically disappear in the early morning, suffocating ties tightly tied around its workers’ necks, millions of stoic faces crowding its streets, and harsh mannerisms, tolerable, livable, likable and maybe, even lovable.

Yes, New Yorkers love their city. To them it is the center of the universe, it is the only place they want to be in.

I might not live here long enough to ever have that kind of faithful, undying love that New Yorkers feel for their city. A city whose skyline, characters and quotidian have been captured like snapshots by Woody Allen movies or whose promises of new beginnings and possibilities have served as inspiration for one of Sinatra’s most famous songs. But maybe, just maybe, I can still have a crazy love affair with this city.

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