I’ve taken plenty of back seats; I said many yes’s when I should’ve said no’s, I accept second-rate attention, I forget what I need and go for things I want. But this week, in particular, I’ve found strength in dreaming aloud and to be in pursuit of things I desire and, possibly, deserve. Perhaps it’s the city that gives courage to dreamers and lovers alike. The skyscrapers could be parallel to ambitions, and the highways to be of the infinite opportunities. I’ve never been more inspired this week than the rest of the year thus far.
Chicago, our Gotham, remains to be somewhere I could live for a weekend. My liver would be overworked if I live in this underrated city but I can sleep to this city’s sounds. It’s no Singapore, or New York, but it’s something I need it to be. Spending the days in the shops and the nights in the hotel makes good conversations and times to be remember of. We fall asleep to the soft lights and city view, to wake up to morning bagels and cosmetic crowds. Spring break was less glitter and more laughs than 2012′s in Washington DC-Chicago.
Celebrating Patience’s 22nd at an Ethiopian restaurant with friends was a good note to end the trip with. All I think of on the ride back to the hotel was Coldplay’s Yellow. We have great footage of the weekend past. It’ll be one for the books.
Chicago will save the weekends.
New York, two and a half days in, and I’m in love, again. Despite the filth (hello, Paris), I want this city. The architecture across the grids appeal to me each and every turn. The way we chase light in NYC is insane. There’s never a dull moment.
I visited NYU campus and several departments. It’s akin to pursuing my dreams, on foot. My heart is with Boston U though I’ve not been there before. False nostalgia much. But I need options. And directions in post-grad life. Easy is Singapore. Difficult and fearful is everything else. This is also parallel to personal relationships. Fml.
I trekked, in heels, around the East Village and Greenwich Village to only stumble across the Meatpacking district and the West stretch of Lower Manhattan. Bryant Park x Grand Central Terminal. There seems to be a perpetual fashion crusade across the city and my heart stops at every cuffed ankle (or exposed ankles, sans socks, if you think about it) or leather craft. Menswear is insane, I swear. The meticulous thought put into each article of clothing is improperly proper.
I’m most excited about my trip to Brooklyn and the mile across the bridge. Tea salons for macarons are also the little joys. I’m a little sad my adventure is ending too soon. But let’s chase light and soak up the city while we still can.