New York City. I have only heard about it in movies or read about it in books. But when I watch big and small buildings huddled together, with lights from some windows and roads jam packed with vehicles and people bustling about with no care in the world, I am filled with a longing to be there. Most of you would make a face and grimace and wonder how a place so full of people could make someone happy, but it makes me just that. Well at least thinking about it does.
When I am alone in a place full of people, when I can look at them and perceive their looks and their actions, when I feel so small and insignificant that I strive to become something more, that is when I feel happy. Sure it is not a very rosy looking perspective, but that is what makes me happy. To be alone and independent. When I think of living somewhere else, it doesn’t warm me on the inside. When I think of France, it feels like it will snob me away and I will wither away in some dingy corner. Although London is a beautiful city, and cozy to live in, I think it would intimidate me with its people’s icy glares. Sure there might be people who would freeze me with their glares in New York too, or the cold might burst the veins in my fingers, or there might be dark scary valleys, but nothing calls to me more than that city that promises to fulfill your hopes and aspirations. It is this city that promises to help you find someone you could love forever. It is this city that smiles at you and promises every type of candy and clothes.
What would I not give to live there and live there forever!