New York City is the Subway
New York isn’t the Statue of Liberty or the Empire State Building. It isn’t the Chrysler Building or Madison Avenue.
New York is the subway. Where else do you feel so uncomfortably comfortable?
Where else do you see the daily race of people in well-pressed suits sharing space with the freelance artistis and the sales associates and the university students and the tourists?
Humans are best illustrated when they’re all bought together and given one purpose.
To get from Point A to Point B. You can be the two most different people in the world. And yet you’re both waiting for the same train, sharing the same space with hundreds of other people stuck in transit.
In-between moments. Isn’t that what they are? And in-between moments is when you learn to appreciate New York City.
Because then you learn to love it for your own reasons, not the ones you get out of glossy tourist guidebooks or catalogs.
You love the smell of that food stand on your way to work and the variety in the hat shop you tracked down.
In-between moments show you the city’s filth. The assholes. The kind strangers. The diversity. The danger. The putrid smells. The crowded seats.
But they show you the reality, which can be pretty poignant when you’ve been living your whole life with your eyes closed and headphones in.