It’s not me. It’s you.

by Shana Roberts (United Kingdom (Great Britain))

Making a local connection USA

Since I was very little I grew up watching tv shows and movies set in New York City. It was never just a location - it was a frame of mind, a feeling, a character, an idea of something bigger and better. It was where the Ghostbusters lived. Where the Gellar’s hung out with their friends in a coffee shop. Where Tony Manero had a fever and Riggan Thomas flew away. New York City is loud and chaotic, dirty and unrelenting. A towering colossus. A temple to uncompromising commercialism and a definitive beacon of western capitalism. Homeless people and beggars litter the streets in the vain hope of getting tossed a couple of dollars to get them through the day. Broken men and women wearing the weight of a lifetime of wrong decisions and missteps, whilst nearby bars charge $20 for a glass of wine and $5 for water and no one blinks an eye. Despite this, it somehow gets into your blood.... it becomes a friend. Something familiar and warm. Before you know it you don’t notice the noise or the lights anymore - things that overwhelmed your senses upon arrival. You begin to walk faster. You cross at the traffic lights without even looking. You order pizza through a hole in a wall and feel embolden by the energy, the power and the potential of the place. New York City is the home of the strong and the land of the determined. It is beautiful and real. It is hard and ugly. Perhaps it is the closest thing we have to a modern utopia, millions of people, from hundreds of different cultures, living together and hoping for a better life. Living their story. Walking their path. Pursuing their happiness. New York carries many scars. A few of its wounds have not healed even after almost 20 years. Dig deeper and you find a city still in shock, grieving for that what was taken from them - life, liberty and certainty. It is older and wiser now and just as it did many centuries ago, it opens its arms to the weary, the lost and the different. Urban gardens, broadway shows, off brand costumed attractions playing loose with copyright laws. Hotdog carts, yellow cabs and endless need to look up in awe at the steel giants of yesteryear. New York will treat you like you treat it. It will give back only what it is given. As a tourist I am a willing and excited spectator. I visit the set of all the great shows, stories and music videos of my youth and I am enamoured and content. It isn’t just a holiday. New York is a life experience and an echo of everything that makes us the best and worst. We eagerly take what we want and spit out the rest for the busboy to clean up when we leave. Would I live here? There is a musical track called ‘Trust me on the sunscreen’ by Baz Luhrmann that says ‘live in New York City once but leave before it makes you hard’. Even after four days I knew that this was true. It gradually consumes you, changing your behaviour and attitude without you realising and despite my affection, I know it is bad for me. I know we have no future. I know you being out the worst in me. So I, like so many before me, leave with a simple memory of my great love, like an illicit affair that when you think back on gives your butterflies in your belly. It was good while it lasted but like all great passions, you need to get out before the fire consumes you both and you are lost forever. Thank you for the time we had and the moments we shared. I will love you always. Xx