Tuesday, January 10, 2012
New York: Where The Weak Come To Die.
New York, New York.
It's a place where luck does not exist. Luck is for the weak. For those who have no talent and therefore need some unknown being to do the work for them. Luck is for the lazy, for those who could not muster enough energy to shake themselves out of some self-imposed slumber (indeed, it must be a slumber of the heart, for who ever could sleep their life away, lacks love) and place one foot in front of the other in the belief that today is the day they will succeed and no other. A belief in luck shows that one is lacking in courage, and that alone will ensure this city swallows you whole. What's more, no one will care. No one will wonder about you. They will continue to eat in their quaint patisseries, and studiously ignore you in the subway while you pray for luck to make you something that you were clearly never meant to be. Do not be sad. This is not a rebuke of your talent.
You will remain just as talented as you are for the rest of your life. Nothing about New York will change that. New York will change you. New York will beat you into something shiny, hard and possibly empty. The last 48 hours have been hard for me to witness because I realised that New Yorkers, at least the ones who moved from elsewhere and settled in New York have dulled, wary eyes that move sharply from corner to corner seeking out opportunity. It is that naked ambition and opportunism that kills the light in the eyes. As if the electric billboards of Times Square are run on the life-force of the people of New York.
It may sound depressing. You may think that I hate it. No. I am, as ever, ambivalent. My guard is down, I am vulnerable, I have never really been in a situation where four people know me in a city of twenty million. Johannesburg is a hick town in these parts. I am lonely and anonymous,but by God, I am free. Perhaps in two weeks, I will be different too. Perhaps by then my eyes won't shine as brightly and my heart will be a little wary, but I know when I arrive back home, I will be a lot more me and a lot less Jozi.
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The light in the eyes is whatever it is that keeps us fully human, yet keeps us from being fully realized. New York is proof positive that finding yourself is not always healthy or life-affirming.
ReplyDeleteDAMN! That was GREAT. I'm from the country in the states, but i imagine u are right, because citys are a sort of prison, they are gray, the white parts have more trash cans than the black parts.
ReplyDeleteAnd u said "As if the electric billboards of Times Square are run on the life-force of the people of New York." <<Thats one of the greatest observations I've seen about New York it rings true.