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home sweet...
driving into the city after the sun has set is such an interesting experience now. the road stretches out in front of you and the sky ahead begins to show a slight tint of orange (especially if there's snow clouds in the sky). the lights begin to get brighter and brighter, and then all of a sudden you can see the empire state building, pushing its red-white-and-blue spike into the sky.
every time now, i've looked towards the south, knowing that at this point i would have been able to see them. they were taller than everything, they used to eat the horizon. i remember that i used to be able to see them from here, but i can't remember exactly where they are supposed to have been. especially in the dark. i squint at the lights, as if maybe they'll yield some clue. i wish there was some gap, a big sign in blazing neon proclaiming: this is where they used to stand, the twin towers.
they were always my first glimpse of new york.
i walked on the upper west side today, in a snow storm, and the streets were slushy. the snow had just fallen, and it was already dirty and grey. cabs rushing by splashed me with that special brand of new york snow-goo. i looked around at the people, oh gods, so many people, so many lights, the noise. it was breath taking.
i love it here. i thought i knew that before i left. and maybe i did. but not like this.
oddly, i suppose, i'm actually looking forward to going back to another one of my homes. maybe not Ithaca specifically, but taking up my textbooks again, filling up blank pages in my notebooks.
sometimes i wish we could just have it all. in one place. take the island of manhattan and float it right off the coast of san diego, and put a nice ivy trimmed college on a little island in between. i could canoe to my classes.
it'd be great.
every time now, i've looked towards the south, knowing that at this point i would have been able to see them. they were taller than everything, they used to eat the horizon. i remember that i used to be able to see them from here, but i can't remember exactly where they are supposed to have been. especially in the dark. i squint at the lights, as if maybe they'll yield some clue. i wish there was some gap, a big sign in blazing neon proclaiming: this is where they used to stand, the twin towers.
they were always my first glimpse of new york.
i walked on the upper west side today, in a snow storm, and the streets were slushy. the snow had just fallen, and it was already dirty and grey. cabs rushing by splashed me with that special brand of new york snow-goo. i looked around at the people, oh gods, so many people, so many lights, the noise. it was breath taking.
i love it here. i thought i knew that before i left. and maybe i did. but not like this.
oddly, i suppose, i'm actually looking forward to going back to another one of my homes. maybe not Ithaca specifically, but taking up my textbooks again, filling up blank pages in my notebooks.
sometimes i wish we could just have it all. in one place. take the island of manhattan and float it right off the coast of san diego, and put a nice ivy trimmed college on a little island in between. i could canoe to my classes.
it'd be great.
no subject
miss you.
::Hugs::
no subject
your idea is great, except for one thing.... there'd be all these CALIFORNIANS way too near NYC. and you know what that means... i'd have to get my neutron bomb. and nobody wants that.