NYC
I see it in photographs and television screens. Glossy magazine pages and wall-sized movie screens. And why does it bring me to tears every time? I wasn't always sure of what, but I never questioned where. I see so many people failing and I keep telling myself that can't be me. And when she said she couldn't stand it much longer it almost broke my heart, but it didn't break my spirit, because maybe I'll be stronger. I will be stronger. She moved to prove that she could. I'm moving, because I can't think about anything else. I can't describe it. You just need to witness it. And, yeah, its going to be hard and I've gotta get my shit together in the next three years or it won't happen and I think that would just about kill me. I close my eyes and think about those city streets and that's all the motivation I need. And sometimes I think the reason I can't sleep, or the reason I'm so unhappy is, because I won't feel complete until I'm there. I keep telling myself its only 3 years away, but why does that seem so far away when all I see is a mile long stretch of strip malls? I wish I had the means to just pick up and leave...