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Underground in the ‘City that never Sleeps’


It is as if I am being pushed into a massive transport into a world of insanity. As the doors close, the train car fills to capacity so that people cannot so much as reach to their phone or check their watch. As I look out the window you see lights passing, stations, people, all passing by too fast to really make anything out. As the train comes to a halt everyone is jolted forward bumping into one another. The doors slid open and all of a sudden everyone sprints for the door. It is as if a school of fish is all trying to escape a fisherman’s net all swimming in the same direction frantically. It is nice to get out of the subway train and finally be able to move about and breathe again. I take a moment to check the pockets of my jeans making sure nothing was dropped or stolen. Once again the same crowd has congregated at the turnstile to get out to the street. Everyone is huddled near each other as if this will make the process faster, I hold back observing them with a chuckle.

Finally, I get out of the subway and walk up the stairs into downtown Manhattan. It is a whole world hustling and bustling around me. Some people have maps and have cameras, others have suits and newspapers, but they are all infected by the City hustle. It is overwhelming as Taxis zoom by and city lights flicker just as fast as the people themselves walk. I look around almost with a sense of sadness at these people. I am standing in the street just observing as these people speed by not realizing anything around them. People walk past me bumping shoulders, shoving me, or even walking straight into me as they struggle to compose their texts while still keeping their far too quick pace.

People rush into me as if I will evaporate with their blow like a ghost. I feel as if a shepherd is herding each person who is on the street, but me. The shepherd is society, and that is what tells these people they must just eat sleep work. As I stand there in the sidewalk, I close me eyes and imagine myself back home. I think of the ability to take it slow, to stop and breathe in the world around you, as well as truly admire the beauty of the world that surrounds us. A taxi’s horn awakens me from this little daydream, and I am once again returned to this city life that surrounds me. The sense of sorrow over takes me again, and I just wish these people could take a minute from their fast paced, exhausting life, and take in this amazing world.

As I am pushed back down the stairs to the subway, I sit down and reflect. The train fills up around me again until there are barely inches between the last persons back and the closing doors. All that is on my mind is that I am excited to relax and get some sleep, in this exhausting city that “doesn’t sleep”.

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