
It's not a cliche to say that New York really is the greatest city in the world. It is. THE. City. It might not be home, or where I've spent the better part of my life for the past three years, but New York seems to accept you unabashedly, unequivocally.

That is, of course, until you run out of money.
I blame this on the lack of imagination of the view from my bedroom window.
I miss Manhattan, but it's good to be home.
Labels: Wanderlust
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