Michelle and the Mother Fucking City

by Michelle

As I sat in my boss’s office today looking at the huge midtown buildings against the blue sky, it sort of dawned on me how funny it is that I live in NYC. I felt like Ferris Bueller when he’s looking down at Chicago from the top of the Sears Tower. Forehead up against the glass, aghast that I actually live and thrive here every day. I forget sometimes what a huge step it was. I forget that I’m living in a city full of history and opportunity. I spend much of my time wanting to ax murder tourists and junk punch the guys that holler at me on the streets. I forget about those romantic moments that I’ve experienced; walking through the West Village on a cool summer evening, or laying in Central Park in the fall (made no less special by the larp-ers). Those moments where the wind is knocked out of me because I remember that I live here. Here, in New York Fucking City.
Michelle and the mother fucking city.

Anderson out.

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