Maybe we become New Yorkers the day we realize that New York will go on without us. To put off the inevitable, we try to fix the city in place, remember it as it was, doing to the city what we would never allow to be done to ourselves. The kid on the uptown No. 1 train, the new arrival stepping out of Grand Central, the jerk at the intersection who doesn’t know east from west: those people don’t exist anymore, ceased to be a couple apartments ago, and we wouldn’t have it any other way. New York City does not hold our former selves against us. Perhaps we can extend the same courtesy.
Colson Whitehead, The Colossus of New York (via villagevoice)
Reblogged from The Village Voice
Editor
fwriction
fwriction
Subscribe via RSS
Follow on Tumblr
Mobile version
Random post