“I love New York, even though it isn’t mine,the way something has to be, a tree or a street or a house, something, anyway, that belongs to me because I belong to it.”
Truman Capote.
So many people come to New York with something to prove. There’s no other self-glorifying city that says that if you can make it here, you can make it anywhere. The persistent fascination with the city, the way people project so much into it, makes everyone to think that New York belongs to them. But there is the other side too. It is difficult to live here. You have to work harder than you have thought. You have to face limits and postpone your wish for more space or stability, warmth of relationships and silence. You need to speed up and meet deadlines.
But this is all about how much you love this city. How much it really matters for you? I like that walks across the Brooklyn Bridge, hours spent at Met , walks along crowded streets where it seems like every person came from a different corner of the world. New York is cinematic. It’s concentrated. It’s diverse. It’s where a lot of important things have happened, and so, it is full of history and legends. It’s a place of ideals, “where anything is possible.” This is why I’m here. Even though it’s so easy to love it and hate it at the same time, for now I wouldn’t want to live anyplace else, for all the big reasons and for all the small ones. I do, because it is still possible to build things here.