One of my favorite things to do is to write. (Obviously.) The best part of writing is that you write anywhere. In the subway with an Indian man hitting on you (true story) to Central Park where you see a young jangly couple making out only ten feet away from you (ANOTHER true story). But you get my mind. Everywhere you are, you can just grab a pen and write away.
I'm an uptown girl. I don't mind downtown, but I'm more at peace with uptown/midtown/whatever you want to call it. All of my favorite places are there. But the other day, I took a "trip" to the Time Warner Center and to Central Park on Monday, July 27 to kind of get away from all the shit people are causing and decided to write.
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7-27-09: Time Warner Center Stop 1
My butt is moderately wet. It was raining briefly, and I could feel the subway roaming under me.
The thing about New York is that you aren't sure who's the tourist and who's not. I've always tried to decipher that but I clearly just can't. I suppose large book bags, heavy set cameras and large groups give it away.
Any chance I get, I come here, the Time Warner Center, right across the street to Central Park, yet home to my dream job, as a CNN journalist and writer. Coming here makes me feel like I am part of the Time Warner Community, just, without the business suit, of course. But for now, I want to explore a little bit of Central Park before it gets dark and scary people emerge.
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Central Park Rock - Stop 2
I stopped at one of my favorite places in the Park. It's not too far in the Park, depending on where you're going - but I like it. It's a pretty big rock, you can see a lot. It's right next to the kiddie play area - equipped with sprinklers, a shit load of swings, sand dunes, weird castle pillar thingy, etc. I also like it because it's safe - not secluded or anything: There are other people around the rock, a Middle Eastern man smoking a cigarette, whom I also saw while I was walking up the rock, and a tan teenage looking guy wearing skinny jeans, red t-shirt, thick, black glasses and turquoise and black kicks. He is now on his cellphone. Coolly enough, he also looks like he's carrying a white bag, presumably from Borders - but I could be mistaken.
I could smell the smoke now. As it enthrusts my virgin nostrils like a delicate raging bull. It's strong, but not so strong that I am intimidated and want to leave. Two other kids come by the rock. They look like they are brother and sister. It is evident that they are a couple, embracing.
Back then, I didn't mind being single. I was happy with my life and deeply satisfied with everything. My friends and family were all I need. Oh god, the couple is laying down just about ten feet from me and is making out. I suppose they are somewhat upgraded from what me and Brian used to be - in the Creek, but that's a different story. I do, however, admire their, uh, confidence? I don't think it's very classy to do such a thing - especially somewhere that I can see! But whatever, I'm kind of like that when we want to.
I kind of wish I was single again. Not that I don't love BH, but I wish I could just be able to be free - roam the world without worrying of loss. I didn't fear death before, but now I do. I dread seeing BH thinking about some woman. As greedy as it sounds, I want to be the center of his universe. Because clearly, he is always the star of my life. He shines even when I feel that I never do.
More and more people are stopping by the rock. It's nice to see that more people are appreciating it's wealth. It's such a beautiful sight, the rock.
Walking through the street of New York (okay sorry to interrupt BUT I SMELL WEED! Could people be a little bit more fucking courteous and smoke in a vacant area? WTF Drugs?), makes me facilitate my agony of being a homebody. I'm not much of an indoors, home type of person. I like t be out. Take everything in, see new people, I am very observant. I'm curious like my grandma, she always asked me so many questions and she'd get annoyed when I didn't give her much information. Now, I'm always giving the most details as possible.
The guy with skinny jeans is now laying down with his iPod and so is this other guy with a grey and white stripped shirt. Not sure if it's a polo or not. I'd be cool to listen to music and lay down, but I'm afraid that I might fall asleep. That wouldn't be so good.
The last time I was here, the rock wasn't so occupied. Now, a shit load of people are here. The clouds as receded (YES! It was a Borders bag!!!) and the weather is perfect. It's not humid either. According to my phone, it's 7:33 and it's still light outside.
Another thing in New York is I always try to deduce who's a rich person and who's not. New York is known for their expensive prices and more than 18 million (?) people live here. Around the Central Park area, a lot of rich people inhabit here. I've always dream of living in a house around here. Apartment, penthouse, whatever It seems like a lot of rich people here are blond, with Lacoste polos and Prada bags. It can also be evident that they have a stuck-up personality. You could feel it within the energy. It's a weird thought to have, but I've always wanted wondered about New York's wealthy.
There was a young dirty blond haired girl who was wearing an Obama '08 pink shirt. Her name was Mackenzie. She looked at me and gave me a sly smile. She had a cool French braid on...
The couple whom I mentioned earlier are now at it again. The kissing, I mean. Oh boy.
The next time I come here, I'm going to take a book or some sort of reading material. There is a foreign group with a 35mm? camera - they are all smoking and t hey tried too hard to be fashionable. Whoever said less is more is certainly wrong, in this case. I wonder if their vampires - lol oh wait, tey aren't pale enough.
OMG = Is today piss Emmellene off and smoke on the Central Park Rock?! Oh well. Time for Borders.
More new people. The Middle Eastern guy is still here - reading on what it seems to look like a newspaper.
Off I go.
When I have my own camera, I'll be taking much more pictures than these people.
