“That’s life… that’s what all the people say; you’re riding high in April, shut down in May…”

While the simple, yet somehow eloquent words of Mr. Frank Sinatra echo throughout my small, dinkey one-bedroom apartment, I hit a sudden stop from drinking my Heineken, just to think.
For just a short second, I pictured myself in rainy Manhattan, riding a Zamboni while the scorching roar of central European tourists pierces through my ears. And I fall flat on my face, as luck would have it. That’s life, I tell you… I can’t deny it.

I jumped right on a big bird and flew away in an extremely angsty fashion. Despite the overall tone of my being at that moment, I somehow have never felt more alive. Start spreading the news, I’m leaving today. I want to be a part of it – New York, New York. Never in a million years would I imagine falling this hard for the city that doesn’t sleep. Somehow, I feel like I don’t need it. Sleep, I mean. The city I need, oh how so very much do I need it.

I walked right past the lemonade stand and felt a slight gust of wind. It pulled me into its arms so lovingly, I just could not resist. The sight of a freshly squeezed lemonade quickly evaporated. Is it winter, or is it summer, it truly does not matter; I long for a soft, gentle nudge.
It amazes me, the passage of time… Feeling so nostalgic for things you haven’t even experienced yourself, and the subsequent pain that goes along with it – what a beautiful, strong sensation previously to man unknown – previous to me articulating it, of course.

Shaking my personage to its very cynical core; oh New York, New York… you did me good. And I never even took a single glance at the lemonade stand. Perhaps it’s just destiny toying with me and testing me, as it usually does. That’s just how things are.
In a manner akin to killing oneself – I grab my cold weapon of choice… breathing intensifies. And – breathing hurts. Thinking of the blues, the red pill I consumed years ago and in turn, it consumed me. I’ve been chasing after the wrong things all along. I got all the money, got all the fame, got all the fortune… but I missed out on any of the love. Maybe that’s why I keep falling for this city – the so-called Big Apple – so much. It doesn’t love me back, but I continuously chase after it in hopes it can set me free, reduce my own folly to rubble and make me love again.

That’s life… I’m not in danger. I am the danger. Like an echo chamber, I thrive on danger. One can always find me close if one chooses to look hard enough. How does one find Sinatra?
In all of us. Frank Sinatra breathes life into this seemingly dull and boring life. He was the one, the one able to shake us all. At least that’s what all the people say…