Listening to Active Child is akin to speaking to God.

by novemberyankeecharlie

*side note* Being an Atheist in America isn’t ideal…

However listening to Active Child ‘I’m In Your Church At Night’ really is akin to speaking to God.

I have been absent from the WordPress world for  a couple of weeks now. There is a valid reason behind it however, my laptop decided to say goodnight and never woke up to say good morning. My old, white, heavy, trusty MacBook decided it no longer could go on, quite literally, the power button stopped working and like any good carer I decided not to prolong her pain and I let her go. I chose to hope that she didn’t give up on life due to the poor writing she was forced to witness. I’m now feeling rather guilty as I tap away on my new MacBook Air though. I feel like this laptop is my mistress. It’s all new and slim and lovely. I feel so superficial, I can’t lie to you though, every time I tap the space bar I get a little bit excited. I can already feel my old MacBook rolling in her grave.

On another note, New York got hot. Then it got cold. Then it got warm. This city is like a woman going through menopause, one minute I’m contemplating taking an umbrella out with me, the next I’m buying a pair of shorts from Urban Outfitters because I can no longer stand being in jeans. I practically stripped down to my underwear on Broadway as the temperature crept to 90.

Manhattan never feels like it’s an island when you’re on it, the streets feel endless, the avenues expansive. It’s a cliche to say, and everybody says it, but it really is a concrete jungle with no reprieve from the heat that emanates from it. The other day after sun baking on the rooftop with a swedish goddess (aka my roommate Hanna) I took a long walk and found myself at the Williamsburg Bridge. I love that bridge. I love the walk over it, I love the pink railings and the view of the water; but most of all I love the view of the city from there. You can see the Empire State Building, the Chrysler Building, the Lower East Side, the project housing on Avenue D, the J train crossing the bridge like all the other pedestrians. I love that view. It makes the city seem small, an almost impossible thing to do to New York City. It brings me back to Earth. It (literally) removes me from the city and forces me to take a moment to appreciate the mixing pot that is Manhattan. Another advantage is the cool breeze coming off the East River, nothing to sneeze at when the city is a sauna. My friends here laugh at me for personifying New York and I realize I must sound ridiculous.

New York is a woman (of course).

She’s a trash bag, an absolute mess. She loves to eat and she loves to drink. Often to excess. Hence why our friendship is deep and meaningful.

We’ve watched the sunrise together too many times to count.

She has her faults and is unashamed to bask in that fact. She is breathtakingly beautiful in a way that no one can really put their finger on. Some like her for her looks, others for the fact that she is and always will be unattainable.

I love that about her.

Those who accept her despite her bullshit; those that can roll their eyes at her and give it back as hard as they get are the only ones who will earn her respect.

I like to think I’m cynical, hopefully not jaded though. Against the grain maybe. However, when I talk about the things I truly love, I am one thing and one thing only… I cringe to admit it, but I’m a romantic.

These days I just blame Manhattan.