#4 | a weekend in the city
Welcome to post #4 of tomorrow!
I've been thinking a lot about new york city lately. some random thoughts:
I visited home in the midwest recently and tried my best to avoid taking cars, but it was an uphill battle, especially in the humid heat. a 13-minute walk in chicago isn't nearly as doable as in new york. there aren't many trees and the sidewalk is shit.
when I came back to new york, the ease of riding public transit made me feel so peaceful. on the bus to get a haircut, my eyes hurt from staying up late the night prior, so I tried my best to avoid staring at my phone or even my book, instead gazing out the window as the city rolled by.
there are so many old storefronts that have closed without a new tenant to breathe new life into them. some of the awnings are even still intact and legible with information, and occasionally I'll look one up and see that it shuttered during covid, meaning that that space has been closed for years now, likely because of rising rent that makes business untenable.
one of my close friends told me that her family was relocated by the nyc public housing system on two separate occasions, each time being so that developers could build private housing instead. a decade later, those buildings were indeed demolished, but the lots remain empty. nobody has bought the land and built anything on it yet. people's lives upended for nothing.
sometimes I wonder why I'm here. I feel like I'm part of the problem. transplants have always been a part of this city, but recently costs seem to be out of control. how can I give back to the place I want to call home? that's a question I'm finding the answers to over time.
that same friend of mine came to visit her family this weekend, so we hung out on our shared day off. it was humid humid humid but we persevered through the street sauna. we walked with my girlfriend to get croissants, weed, medications from the pharmacy, and then milk tea. I felt so silly but happy to spend money on things that brought me joy. then, my girlfriend went home to work, and my friend and I made our way to the met for their exhibit on feminist chinese porcelain.
at our transfer, it started to rain and we luckily made it under the litle bus stop roof. we tore an edible in half and a 30-something man came to stand under as well. I gave him my seat because he was precariously carrying two boxes of food. when we got on the bus, he offered us a seat too. I said it's ok, and then asked if the drink he was sipping on was a mango lassi. he said there was a good indian food truck down the street. noted, I said, though I rarely come by that area.
the edible trickled in over time. I didn't feel it that strongly in the actual museum until we were trying to leave and got a little lost, ha. I haven't had sativa in a while because it makes me anxious, but lately I've been in a good mental state and decided it would be ok. and it was.
we sat on the steps of the met after finding our way out, tipped the saxophonist who always seems to be there, bought a typewriter poem, and built in lots of buffer time to get to dinner. I so rarely do that. I'm always in a rush, always late. how wonderful it was to make my way somewhere at leisure in new york and let myself be carried however and whenever things come and happen - and in this city, they always do.