New York City.
How did you read that in your head? I sang it, like in Hamilton. History is happening in Manhattan, and we just happen to be in the greatest city in the world.
But it could have been any number of other lyrics. New York is a popular muse for musicians. It is, like a European friend once said to me, the center of the world. And New Yorkers know it too. They just are too busy being New Yorkers to care. Because the whole brand is scowling too hard to care. Which is something I love about New York.
One, there’s a ton of people, always. You are always an anonymous person in the crowd. Two, everyone seems to have places to be, things to do. I love that bustle. I love how New Yorkers walk with purpose. I love how they can’t be bothered. I love the hustle. Three, despite the grime, it is majestic. It is a city in every sense of the word. The most city city. Packed into such a compact space, you’re forced to interact with all sorts of people and experiences, familiar and unfamiliar. So the streets teach you about the world, because the world comes to you when you’re New York.
New York may spend too much time hating on California and LA, but of all places in the world, it can get away with it (they’ll never understand anyways). Nothing about New York City is convenient. And yet we all put up with it because it’s worth the inconvenience. And even though I’m a California girl at heart, NYC is an exciting albeit cramped place to call home.