10 June 2007

life moves pretty fast....

Would it be too cliche if I were to finish off this quote from Ferris Bueller? I think so. Using only the first half of it will serve its purpose just fine.

IN Manhattan, time moves not pretty fast, but faster than fast. Every day, people from all backgrounds, from all different parts of the world, move from place to place. Although most of them run about ten minutes early, in their minds they are always "late," thus ignoring others around them as they walk ( as though on a mission) to get where they have to go on a daily basis. To themselves they exist only in their own minds- as if in their own little bubble. Once at their destination, this usually doesn't change. Maybe the pace slows down a bit-- however, to me, for Manhattanites, being at work brings with it the objective of getting home as fast as possible. As such, life can be somewhat of a blur.

WEEKENDS aren't an exception (at least half of the time on weekends at least). Manhattanites scramble, running faster than they do during the week, to get a good seat/beat the traffic on trains, cars, the Jitney, HELECOPTERS, to get to their weekend destinations (most likely a Hamptons). Once there, it's up at 8am to get to the beach to find a decent area to sit and tan. Then, finally, they relax for a few hours.

HAVING been wrapped up in this for almost a year now, I finally understand this concept of time. Sometimes I just want it all to stop. If it's not one thing in Manhattan, then it's another- and I find myself always scrambling to get places and giving in to that rude ideology and mindset more and more every day. But, having grown up on Long Island, I am lucky to have somewhere to go when I want to take a break (now if I could only find more time...). Despite the traffic and abundance of stores and shopping centers, it is the country to me. I can sit in my backyard at the pool and pretend I am somewhere far far away.

WHY this is so important to me this week of all weeks, is that my baby sister (who is now 18) graduated from high school yesterday. Is it true? Is it really so? I thought.

It was. She graduated yesterday; it happened. At least I got to see bits and pieces of her last year home- maybe a handful of days. However, I can't help but feel as though I missed out on a major part of her life.

Manhattan blinds you from so much- secludes you from the rest of the world. Life outside of the city is almost as though it is a completely separate world in and of itself. How did I miss this past year? You can't make up for lost time.

Then I started wondering- Is it truly Manhattan or is it just the transition of living away from home? Or both? All I know is that I need a change-- and need to find ways to slow down.

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