I like to think that I don’t pretend to be what I’m not, but I know better. I wear masks every day and very well; however, several things remain when I speak to people and that is my love for my family and friends, as well as all things that glitter and shine: jewelry, paper, utensils, glass, nail polish etc. and of course glitter itself. It also includes sprinkles, my own personal edible glitter. At any rate, I’m well aware that many come to New York in hope of getting their start at stardom and fame. That act by artists is part of the reason I’m even here on this trip. In the book we’re reading, February House, we get to learn that it is quite possible to be extremely successful here given the right about of talent, money, and connections. Money is optional if you have an abundance of the other two. Nevertheless, as I walk through the city I find that this combination ever happening at once seems most improbable.
The lights of the city make it glow and come alive, but it still seems unbearably lonely here. Granted, it could be that I just miss home, but still. No one smiles or says hello here, at least, not without some hidden agenda. Usually to sell you something. Everyone walks facing forward without making eye contact. I’ve taken to doing the same. For me, this city reminds me of the organized chaos of Mexico City, but on a much smaller scale. In Mexico, I swallowed up the lights and the people and the language and I loved it even when I started to get homesick. Here, like in Mexico, I can walk down the street and not understand a word because half the language being spoken aren’t English. So. I put in my earphones and turn up my iPod and walk briskly to wherever I intend to go with my eyes focused about midway up the traffic light pole where the next street sign will be.
My mom use to say that there was nothing worse than feeling alone in a group or relationship. This entire city is that group and I feel the truth in these words more than ever. I find that even being in this city only a little over a week has already made me homesick and depressed. It took almost 3 full weeks for that to happen in Mexico and I could barely speak the language! And it’s sad, because I do speak English and can read things more easily here, it’s not as if there is ever lack of something to do or see, but still. Shakespeare says that all the world is a stage and the men and women merely players. That’s fine and dandy, but with my experience so far, if New York is the stage then I am merely a speck of dust kicked up by the other players passing by.