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I Love This City

I am in love with this city, its whirlwind of flavor and culture, a veritable cornicopia of heart. I explore it with relish, employing the zest and passion a man usually reserves for his lover. Oh, and how enticing this place is, capturing my gaze effortlessly, flaunting its excitement in front of me coquettishly, amused as I lie in agony, overcome by an unrestrainable lust for life. The sun meanders carelessly along the glistening tops of curving cathedrals, strolling along languidly before retiring for the night, replaced by the flickering silver of the awakening moon. The sea, awash in bits of blinking light, the strobes of Neptune's heaven, blinds me as I start eagerly towards the beach. I am in love with the Autumn, reborn in the lavender of the setting sun, and enraptured by romance in all of its forms. It is the essence of who I am, and this place reflects that ideal. A resounding epiphany, and all Im doing is waiting on a tailor. As always, Im stricken with an inconsolable wanderlust and an aching desire to know every experience the world makes available to me. The tea I drink is from Italy, chilled and frozen in tasteful eternity next to a bottle of Badoit spring water. To think that, as a younger man, a boy really at 18, I was afraid of these experiences. Crippled by the anxiety of perpetual heartbreak, my ambition reigned in by the decieving hand of fatal rationality. No more. Life beckons, and I thank God everyday I answered the call. I will continue to do this, but for now, lounging in the dying light with a glass of pomegranate green sounds delightful. Cheers.

The fact that a year ago today I was in Singapore still baffles me. To everyone, myself included, circumventing the world by ship is remarkable and unbelievable. Yet, to my friends and I, it was a matter or course, a requirement of the job. And what a job it was. Sentosa was gorgeous and captivating, a staggering, opulent metropolis situated in the middle of a lush, evergreen jungle. I drank whiskey that cost $75 USD a shot, did handstand pushups on a pillar 25 feet above the ground, and imbibed the rich locality until I was drunk on culture shock. Through it all, I kept my eyes steady and leveled, marred as my gaze was by emotion and desire. I thought of home, and all that I had left behind and outgrown. I sensed the opportunity for a new life, a journey worthy of novelization, a story so overwhelmingly transcendent that it could only be taken as fiction to the public at large. I decided right then and there that nothing, no fear, illness, woman or enemy, would prevent me from living exactly the way I desired. As we made our way to the sprawling city, foriegn nightlife beckoned. The booming rhythms and pounding bass resonated with me on a visceral level, the effects magnified by the aforementioned exorbitantly priced whiskey. I smiled and carried on. Heres to life.

One of my favorite things to see is the skyline at night. Crossing the bridge and slowly witnessing the emerging city-scape is exhilirating. Like I told my girlfriend, when I look across the water and behold the rising skyscrapers and widespread landscape, clustered as it is with houses, businesses, restaurants and clubs, I see opportunity. Life unfolds daily here, and Im blessed to count myself as a part of it. Back in May, after being temporarily freed from the confines of laborious beauracracy and Sisyphean over-exertion, my friends and I would take to downtown. A tribe of libidinous, aggressive young men engaging in full scale social warfare is troubling enough, but when those character traits are enhanced by the liberal consumption of alcohol, the results are devastating. I remember being carried by 2 of my friends, arms strewn messily over their slumping shoulders, before we all deposited ourselves into the care of a beleagured hookah bar owner. Beset on all sides by intoxicated idiots, he did the only logical thing and brought us more liquor. My next moment of consciousness finds me shirtless in the middle of a nightclub, being groped by loose girls in short, shimmering dresses, harrassed by the security, and slightly aware of being hassled towards the door. I blinked a few times, and realized the pavement had become my pillow. We spent the night on our friends lawn, shivering, the frigid air blanketing our weary bodies. With no work, I returned to my room and promptly passed out. The resulting hangover was a war trophy.

Midnight dalliances have become my preferred  form of cardio, as I loathe treadmills to a nearly irrational degree. I gaze and gawk at the exclusive gated apartment buildings, each with its own unique architectural hue. In Balboa, a simple trip to the park will transport you to Gordon Gekko's New York City, while a few steps North will acquaint you with coastal New England. Some people I know are intimidated by the realization that they cant afford these palatial homes, while others are motivated and driven by the potential that lay before them, ambitious and deliciously unrealized. I belong to the latter group. One day, I will join the ranks of the select few that not only rent, but own such fine accomidations. Ive struggled, toiled, quivered and raged against the onslaught of poverty, and my fear of irrelevance and pure failure fuels my insatiable need to be successful. Not in the eyes of the world, but on my own terms. Freezing, lonely nights in Virginia are forever in pursuit of me, and, like hellhounds nipping at my fatigued heels, they remind me of the fate of a broken, bitter young man who cant handle his money. Thats why I invest, play cards, fight, model and write. For love and for fear. And every day that I experience such prosperity, Im reminded of how far Ive climbed, how much Ive bled. It wont be in vain. I love this city.

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