in chinese there is a very poetic and poignant translation of "new yorker" - nu yue ke - which means "guests of new york." in that sense, i am slowly getting into the state of being a new yorker.
so far, in my orbit, new york is everything i expected it to be, only more. that's the true frightening part of living in new york, that your fantasies, your dreams are actually concrete realities.
i still can't believe that i actually live in this conglomeration of dreams and desires and dramas. every now and then i can't shed a fear, as if the beautiful people i run into in restaurants and bars will dissolve into monsters and freaks, like they do in a nightmare. i want to touch them, i want to feel their heartbeats, the warmth on their hands.
it's getting late. i'm preparing a document for work and i'm running into a writer's block. i think i'm going downstairs to smoke a cigarette, a sampoerna to be precise, a souvenir from my previous life. i want to slowly inhale the smoke and the street into my system. yes, i'm going to lit it with some matches that i picked up from a restaurant a block away from here, a souvenir from a previous life of new york.
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