Citylife Redux:

New York, NY - Peter - Friday, January 3rd, 2003 : goo

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I've lived in NYC for going on 8 years; these days, I guess you could say that I honestly consider myself to be a New Yorker, and along with that comes so many implications- adaptations individuals make to live in the sprawling chaos of such a dense, utilitarian urban place, changes in behavior to suit one's self to such a specific environment, even to the fault of making one illcontent at the thought of ever having to adapt to any new place, new city, or change in lifestyle.

New York has a way of doing that to a person, this abberrant adaptation that must occur to live- dare I say thrive- here. I grew up in a pastoral, rural area in the southern US. When I first moved to NYC, I experienced a gray period of several tedious and trying months in which it became clear to me that I'd have to adapt to be able to survive in this city; as symptoms of these subtlely profound changes, I hardened a bit, and learned to live more minimally. Here, everthing costs so much. Here, even the simplest tasks become burdensome and tedious, navigating the city and its legendary bureaucracy in order to accomplish the simplest things, like finding a job, learning how to get across town, or dealing with a bank.

For years, this challenge to adapt was wonderful, if not euphorically exciting at times; living in a place like NYC can be thrilling, even in the smallest ways. The things you can see here... the things you can do; the ways youre free to act...

But as these 8 years have drawn on, and I've grown up and settled some, the burden seems to be returning, and I find that I'm often resenting the toll that this city takes on me: shelling out half my salary to live in a large but dark basement apartment on a dirty street, out of the reaches of sunshine, paying an arm and a leg to do anything, feelingrepeatedly tossed at the whim of businesses and services who seem to have become jaded after dealing with so many millions of people (and thus making you feel helpless in the wake of their apathy).

I'm ranting, and I need to. I love this city, but this city itself is giving me second thoughts lately.

Lately, I've travelled to slower-paced regions of sprawling natural beauty where everything is clean, andeveryone seems eager to understand you, if not actually aquiesce to your needs. Kinder people, large open sunny spaces, places where I feel like I could thrive as opposed to merely etching my existence month to month, season to season, night to morning, paycheck to paycheck.

And as much as we love living here, my head is often filled with abject objections regarding chooshing this city as the permanent sunstrate; not to mention the daunting prospects of ever considering raising a family here, or growing old here. If this city exhausts me so at 25, I can only dread what it might dish out on me in the intervening years between my current youth and middle age.

I love this city, yes, and will stay here for some time, at the least. But, I'm not accustomed to these new feelings of dread and doubt.

More than likely, theyre borne of the vibe I get on days like today, where the city is gray and frozen, filthy, loud and the furthest existence from enlightened contentment as one could find.

Days like today make me wish I lived somewhere quiet, slow, and sunny. But deep down, I know that once I were there, I'd miss this city deeply, and have to go though that same period of adaptation that moving anywhere requires.

Damn New York City. I love you, I hate you, I think you're the most passive/aggressive place God has ever created, and for some reason, I live right in your heart.

I guess its just that I wish you'd live in my heart so contentedly.

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