buckybarnzoi replied to your post “the funny thing about living in a shitty tenement building like i do…”

is it really hard living in nyc?? i used to want to live there but plans have changed to accommodate my massive fuckin dog. i’d still like to live there at some point for some amount of time tho

Is it really hard living in NYC? That’s a tough question. 

I think of living in New York as a labor of love. If you’re like me then you never have enough money, but you spend money any way. You live a mile from the train, in a shitty building with a cast of characters who wouldn’t be out of place in a psyche ward or a sitcom.

Maybe you have a full time job which pays well but still not enough. Maybe you have like, 4 jobs and make enough but have no free time.  You realize that living in New York City is about cultural capital, not comfort, and you promise yourself that you’ll take advantage of all the wonderful museums, and films, and music available to you, but still end up going to a bar after work instead.

The city smells; your apartment is too hot, or it’s too cold. You swear that if the toilet water freezes you are going to call 311 and you make a pact with your neighbors to do the same. Your neighborhood has block parties, loud ones. Sometimes there are guys at the Bodega at 8am and they’ve been there since 4am, and no you do not want a heineken on the way to the bus.

Ugh, buses and subways. The L train! The G train! The 4-5-6.Trains. The commute from Brooklyn to Manhattan is the worst part of your day, because who lives in Manhattan, I mean really? But… Bed bugs. Stray cats yowling. Dead pigeons. Diners. Dog runs. Grocery shopping. All of that, too. 

Sometimes, tho, a snowstorm stops the whole city in its tracks and everyone has a moment of wonder and you drag your christmas tree home in four inches of fresh powder the second week of December and the air smells like magic and you never want to leave. Or you get on the subway at 4 am, and there’s an impromptu band of strangers with their instruments playing together, so you ride four extra stops just to keep the fever dream going. Another time you watch the fourth of July fireworks with a patchwork gang of strangers on a rooftop eight apartments from yours and no one blinks, no one cares. Everyone drinks the margaritas that someone’s aunt’s cousin made. 

Every so often, the city smells like honeysuckle and the air is warm and your feet don’t hurt and the collective mood is kind and calm. That’s when it’s love and not labor. But usually it’s both. 

So um. That’s how I feel about New York. 

the funny thing about living in a shitty tenement building like i do is that you can smell what EVERYONE is cooking and hear what EVERYONE is doing. like, i would never have had toast this morning if i hadn’t smelled my neighbor making toast. 

Liking things is never age-inappropriate

People get to like things. It’s ok to like whatever you like.

Even if it’s a show for little kids

Or toys. Or kids’ art supplies. Or picture books. Or YA novels.

When people like things, they’re being people who like things, not being age-inappropriate.

It’s wrong to invade spaces that are intended for young children, or to attempt to get children to accept you as a peer. That’s a boundary violation. Age matters when you’re interacting with others, and some things are genuinely wrong for adults to do.

But liking the thing is never the problem. It’s always ok to like things. Adulthood happens when you reach the age of adulthood. It is not something you have to earn by turning away from awesome things you like.

"Play Doesn’t End With Childhood: Why Adults Need Recess Too" via Sami Yenigun

Who said adults don’t need to play, too? Research shows that doing something engaging, voluntary and fun helps adults maintain their social well-being and reduces risks of diseases like Alzheimer’s. And as an added bonus, having some playtime makes adult life more enjoyable. So go ahead –– crack open that new book or break out some markers for doodling. 

– Alexander

Image: Frank DiBona/Flickr

I do not want to do what I must.
Stubbornly, I forget to pay bills
and clean the small corners of my house.
Most of the time I forget to emerge from
my bed before noon, because right now
I can afford to do this.

I don’t want to calculate my savings
and worry about what I need to do
in order to qualify as “grown up”
even though being in my mid twenties
means this isn’t cute anymore.

I still want to lay on grassy hills
on blankets with you picnicking
feeding you bread and fruits.
Reading you love poems until you
cannot stand the verses
and the stanzas anymore.

Until the metaphors are lost on you.
Until all you can focus on are my lips
and why they are not, in fact
kissing your own. Why my hands are
not roaming the length of your body
impatient and eager to explore you
even more than I already have.

—  "Ideals" by Radha Kistler {radhakistler.com}