let's get lost in new york (nyc days 1-3)
I moved into my NYC apartment today! Seeing how little two grand per month will get you in New York humbles me; the room I share with my brother here in Brooklyn is smaller than my (private) bedroom at home, despite demanding many times more in rent. The kitchen we share with two other guests is uncomfortably warm from a lack of air conditioning, and the Frigidaire in our room is literally built into a makeshift, duct-taped hole in the wall, but that's okay! The small space will teach me to acquire less clutter and be more organized. Life could be worse—after all, I'm still alive, I feel okay, and I can write.
The area we're in is dirty and chaotic, but on the flip side it's also probably the most diverse place I've ever lived in (which is saying something!). Other than me and my brother this neighborhood seems to be largely absent of tourists; the locals have a languid ease about them that makes newcomers like us easy to spot. Spanish seems to be the lingua franca here, and aside from that everything is new to me—the grime, the bustle, and the tight living quarters. Even if it's no fairy tale I have a lot to be grateful for: I feel like I'm getting a small dose of the true New Yorker experience.
I actually arrived in NYC on Wednesday night, and stayed with a good friend until moving in today. I took Thursday and Friday off from work but almost canceled my time off because I've been drowning in work. I am so glad I decided against it. The days passed by in a blur, but looking back we made so many good memories indulging in retail therapy, hunting cheap eats, and walking enough miles to make our feet cry. The past two days felt like vacation, and the fact that I'm not just in this city for a weeklong vacation this time didn't start to hit me until I went to buy groceries after move-in today.
One of the biggest regrets I have from my time abroad is not documenting my travels more. I kept a travel Instagram, but sadly I lost it when I got off social media. Because I don't want to look back on my time in NYC with the same regret, I plan to write as much as I can about my time here (hopefully everyday, if not then as close as possible).
I'm also trying to take less photographs and be more deliberate about the ones I do decide to take. The older I get the more uneasy I feel about taking photographs; while I love reminiscing over old photos, I can't help but feel like the act of taking a photo takes me out of the present moment and cheapens my experience. So I'm saying goodbye to the days of taking thousands of photos on vacation and welcoming in a more mindful approach to photography.
How am I, really? I'm having lots of fun but being thrust into the perpetual motion of city life is exhausting. My brain feels overwhelmed with sensory overload, especially when I walk in Manhattan at night. I haven't been alone much in the past week, but in the in-between moments I catch myself missing my ex and thinking about how she's on vacation with her new crush now. It seems like everyone in New York has a hand to hold, and all the happy couples painfully remind me that we could have been one amongst them in only a few months. Beneath all my pain and bitterness, I still worry about her almost everyday. I hope she's okay. I feel silly longing for her, because I know she doesn't love me anymore and we would never be the same even if she came back, but there is still so much goodwill earmarked for her in my heart. I don't know what to do with all this orphaned love anymore.
(p.s. i want to give a shoutout to nana and exponixio who started their own bearblogs recently!! they write beautifully and push me to keep up with their prolific pace :^)
thank you for reading; write to me at yourstiramisu 🐌 proton dot me