Over there

Watching the morning weathercast

"Hm. Ive gotten used to this place when I think 55 degrees and fog is #*$^$^#* warm."
"Where would you rather be right now.... here or in New York?"
"I happen to like New York."

But not right now.

Yipes.

---
From the NYTimes: an excerpt from Mark Allen's, Going Home Again, in a Worried Mind's Eye

From Texas.. I moved to a New York whose outer surface turned out to be a reflection of what I had dreamed existed beneath.
Behind that mirror, the city I had gazed at from afar was systematically canceled out, year by year, life lesson by life lesson, by a more complicated beast than I had initially conceived of, or was even aware was possible.

Not that my fantasies hadn't been realized, for the most part.

Some say that everyday life in New York is just too complicated for the average person.

After a decade spent jostled inside Manhattan's erratic embrace, every surface here is stained with a memory for me. I can't look anywhere in New York without a poignant recollection. My thoughts surrounding every surface have blocked my view of the surfaces themselves. The physical and imagined intersections of New York now have become a perpetual rerun to me.

New York City is godlike in that to inhabit it is to accept its omnipresence in everything around you.

And long after you leave, everywhere else doesnt seem quite enough.