They say to live in New York is to never be lonely. I disagree. I’ve lived in New York for the past eighteen years of my life and now that I am 25, I can honestly say that I’ve never felt more alone. I feel invisible, yet on display.
This city is big. Filthy. Vast. Vibrant. Ever-changing. Fast-paced. Moving at the speed of light – yet I am stagnant. Watching as everyone leads a life I will never have, dreams I’ll never live up to and loves I will never experience. Everyone is out for themselves. I am no one special. I am nothing. I could spend an eternity in slumber in the city that never sleeps.
Good friends are scarce. I feel caged, looking for people who share the same values to save me, while the evil look down, mock and criticize. Morals are hard to find in a tainted culture. People judge you while not wanting to be judged themselves.
They all come here to “make it.” Do they really? I wish I knew the percentage of people that come here and actually make it. If you can feel lonely here, you can feel lonely anywhere.
In my New York City, people are mean. They push and shove. Yell and violate. Men leer and make you feel uncomfortable. Guns are an accessory. People will shove you into traffic if it helped them get to their destination faster. Everyone is in a hurry to get nowhere. This city disgusts me.
But that’s just on a bad day…because this city…it also has a way of amazing me.
“This dream isn’t feeling sweet
We’re reeling through the midnight streets
And I’ve never felt more alone
It feels so scary getting old”