New York

New York always surprises me. I come remembering only the constant stress and impatience emanating from everyone you meet, and then I arrive and realize that I've forgotten about all the passion and quirks. This place has such potential, so many people, and yet I've never seen them truly rise up and take back their streets. Energy flows into a Yankees parade, and what good does it do? Sanitation workers wade shin deep in celebratory confetti and toilet paper for hours following; the waste is incredible.
At least here I can see the ocean. The first thing I ever do en route to Rye is stop at the beach, sit on the rocks, smoke a cigarette and remember those waters. I can't wait to get to Rock Creek but that smell is something I always miss about this place. That rich, briney air filling my nostrils is irreplaceable.
I'm leaving this place on Tuesday, hopefully earlier rather than later. Car needs fixin' and I still have some supplies to gather.

Still, Tuesday can't come soon enough.