Being born and raised in New York, but nowhere near Manhattan, gives a kid a skewed perspective of the term 'Hometown'. Things are still that "Larger Than Life" sort of big but never glamorous, still over-bright and siren-loud but somehow tuned to a different frequency, where the only constant is change. From that stems the weirdest sense of homesickness for a place you still live. But there is a bitter-sweetness to it. And there is an endlessness to it. Fast and fierce and furious as this town can be, you stick around long enough you learn 'keeping up' isn't the answer. Sometimes letting it overwhelm, just letting it flow is the only way to really be. Well, for me.
I left NY when I was 15. Sick to shit of it. Did the wanderlust tour of 30 homes in 3 years; London, London's much preferred bastard brother LIVERPOOL, Ballintoy, Paris, Montreal, San Francisco, Seattle, Colorado, Ohio, Virginia, well,... I'll stop there cuz the list gets pretty effin' long.
But I missed New York, functioni