New york has this way of catching you when you least expect it.
More than anywhere else in the world you are highly aware of your paralell universes,
your other possibilities of how to spend each moment. Relaxing is not calm but more a denial of options, a choice to not do anything beyond breathing and unwinding.
and going out at night? It's a garden of forking paths. each time you choose, you know of 7 other paths you could be walking down.
Showing up to see a band play, the same band that did this music video sent to you one year ago by one of your favorite boys:
Your friend is throwing the party.
You waltz in, know people, dance to techno reggaton mixes- then decide to leave where the world takes you. Escorted in a car, free, to a party in brooklyn at studio B with a notorious house DJ (Mark Farina) and your own goddamn bottle of vodka. for what? for saying yes to the ways of the world.
You learn that as long as you are doing amazing things, you are never wondering about the other possibilities you could have lived. You are satisfied and busy.
And then sometimes crazy nights lead you to crazy instances where you meet the Drum and Bass MC you thought was cute on the boat with Dara and christian Bruna over a year ago, the b-boy with the backpack. He says something heartbreaking about your cornea and asks you on a date to a museum while talking about freestyling to dubstep.
there is that triple threat: intelligent, attractive, ability to dance. and more, you've met him before while he was onstage at a weekly Drum and Bass party in your old haunt, the east village.
years ago you had turned to your boyfriend and said "that boy is cute" to which he responded with his ever jealous sneer.
now it is now and you lean in to kiss him and he says DAMN
it's been 10 years since a girl's taken the initiative.