The city life

Ever wonder who the people hustling and bustling in New York city are? You see them rushing back and forth, throngs of people, from every walk of life. I always watched and thought how cool it is to have a life so determined, focused, and on point. Of course, not everyone in the City has that mindset but their hurried footsteps, phone conversations all sound of great importance. Everyone all dressed up, heels, suites; it’s a perfect scene.

Turns out there is a lot going on under ground. No, literally, there are the subways, a million flights down. But it is more than that, I know because I have become one. Every day it is a rush to get to the right stop, hope to find a seat and by hope I mean you have to be really quick or else you will be standing for 45 minutes. It is a constant struggle to give up your seat for someone older because who are you to sit while they tower over you with their cane and all. On the other hand, it is really heavy to carry those fancy purses. So I hustle and bustle like the rest of the pack of people I have been squashed onto a bus with. All that body odor and skin touching takes time to get used to. There are many who’s eyes shut instantly, mine are scanning for the odd ones, making sure I am safe. Some days it takes me an hour some days 40 minutes, I am doing my best but at the mercy of transportation, so are all of us here in the City. You may have thought the life under the famous tourist streets were smooth and peaceful because the streets were very much the opposite, you are mistaken though, the life is a ground of red, blue, green lines mixed all together yet somehow there is a flow.

It just shows how much more there is than meets the eye. The heels, the suites, there is more to it, a lot more.

Your Editor

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The Jew and the German

who you trust

The world has gone through many stages in its existence. There have been troubling times and their have been happy times. The era of Nazi Germany has left marks on people till this day. For some it is the mark on their hand, for others a mark on their soul of all the family they have lost. Ever since then, the Jew and the German have walked on two separate paths. Rarely do you see an interaction, and when there is one, it is always very hesitant. There is a matter of trust strangers have with each other but for a Jew and a German there is no trust.

It would be very odd then to see two Jews helping two Germans. One could say the Jews were not aware of the others identity, however, that would end when the question of “where are you from?” came up. And it did. Although the Jew tried extra hard to cover up the emotion of distrust that ran across her face, it was felt. It is hard for one to not feel the hesitation between two sects of people. Would you blame the Jew?

They helped the Germans. They took the time to make sure they were going in the right direction and had all the information they needed, but why? Why would someone whose ancestors were brutally victimized even stop for a moment to help the people whose parents could have very well been the same people who tortured and killed six million people?

A Jew is someone who knows that everything is in the hands of God. That means the reward and punishment of man falls on God to decide. Were the Jews able to put aside their instinct of distrust and hate to help the Germans? They did it with a smile. They laughed, tried to make conversation, and even complimented the German. What would you call that if not trust? One would say that the Jews didn’t honor their identity and trusted the Germans but that would be false because a Jew in its blood knows that there is only trust in God. So the Jews were able to talk and laugh because they knew they were doing the right thing by helping two lost people, where those people came from was entirely in the hands of God.

Your Editor

Being you

who said you need to be perfect?

I have met wayy too many new people in the span of much too short of a time. I can vaguely recall maybe a quarter of the people’s names. One thing I have stuck to is being myself. I find that when placed in many new scenes one can lose themselves trying to hold on to what is around them. It is a scary thought because one can get consumed in it and by the time they look up they are surrounded by unfamiliarity, with no clue how they got there.

I met the people, said hi, smiled, waved, pretended to show interest in details I could not remember two seconds after being said, most of all I stayed true to myself. So when they all stopped dancing and I wanted to dance, I danced despite every eye on me. And when the wannabe girlfriend flanked around my Husband, I felt pity for her but did not detour from standing confidently beside him. And when I wanted to jump in the pool and only the kids were in it- we jumped in together and all the adults secretly wished they had the balls to do it. I am me. I may have looked like a fool to you. I may have worn the wrong outfit in your opinion- but it’s just that- your opinion.

I know it’s not over, being in a new place requires the constant smiles and overly enthusiastic responses, however, I will be true to myself- and trust me- it’s doing you a favor. Say what you want behind my back, I am me and I am proud of me, good or bad, I will try my best to be pleasant, sweet, and nothing but wonderful, you on the other hand, may just not be my cup of tea- but it’s great meeting you 🙂

I sound mean but I mean it from the goodness inside me: I dislike the show everyone puts on for everyone else, I dislike the constant need to sound amazing and always happy, life is serious you know? We don’t all live in mansions covered in heaps of cash with not a worry in the world. It is like driving down a road filled with beautiful houses; you met me once, stopped, said a few words, commented on my looks, and went on to the next. There is more to me than that. Maybe if you actually heard what I had to say instead of nodding until I am done so you can say what you wanted to say next- then maybe I would think you would actually care to meet me. Instead all these people walk by me, stop, say their two cents, leave, catch up with the person a few steps ahead who just did the same thing and discuss what ‘type’ they think I am. I have only heard good things circle back my way about myself but it also just confirms that the cycle of people walking into my life actually is factual. Now if only one would stop, look me in the eyes and care for a genuine response, not just wait to hear the perfectly fabricated response you want me saying.

So if I say something unusual, maybe it is because I am an actual person not just a house standing on a pedestal waiting to be awed at.

Your Editor