10 Minutes Only #8
today's topic: new york
ICYMI: I’m starting a new series to help overcome my perfectionism in which I have 10 minutes and 10 minutes ONLY to write something and post it. Please comment topic ideas to keep me going, if you so please! The timer starts now.
Today, I’m missing New York a lot. On a day where I don’t have work, it feels difficult to find the motivation to get out of bed and get something done. I think that’s because Los Angeles is so focused on the curation of its spaces - the homes, the cafes, the shops - that the neighborhoods feel so barren, and there’s no reason to explore them. At least on the side of town I live. Currently, I’m sitting at the world’s trendiest coffee shop in an outfit I purposely picked out to be perceived by the people at this coffee shop. To be perceived by, but not to interact with… after all, once I got my latte, I firmly planted myself and my laptop at a table outdoors. I know this is classic cafe activity, but something about it being my main goal for the day strikes me the wrong way.
It’s so easy to be alone in New York. For better or for worse, it’s inherently social. The very minute you set foot outside of your shitty home, you are infused in the goings-on of everyone else around you. Even if you don’t interact with them, you are completely surrounded, and you are not really alone. When I lived there, I hated spending time in my shoebox apartment, and I loved that about it. I felt propelled into the world. On my worst days, during which I sought shelter from public perception, it was awful… but I never took it for granted.
The home I share with my roommates is quite nice - we’ve got a lemon tree, a backyard lush with vines and vibrant poppies that have just begun to bloom, and such lovely natural light that streams in through our living room windows. But having a lovely home does invite one to never leave it. And though I’m content right now at my little perch in this cafe, I’m not looking forward to the solitary walk back home.
The grass is always greener, of course - New York is not always for the faint of heart - but today, I’m feeling alone in a way that feels native to LA. (Spoken as a transplant.)