I live in Midtown Manhattan, which means I escaped the wrath of Hurricane Sandy pretty much unscathed. Though I did stock up on water and food, I never lost power or water and practically slept through the worst of the hurricane with my windows open. 

For me, the Hurricane was never real, but I was definitely shocked to see some of the Twitter photos that my friends posted of massive flooding and damages to lower Manhattan. I wish I had the means and the time to head downtown on Tuesday night to see the “I am Legend shit” people have been talking about . It’s strange to be so close to it all, but still feel so disconnected. I can’t even imagine how it would have felt to be flooded in my apartment, much less having to evacuate my home and deal with the aftermath. 

In some ways, this reflects what I’ve always felt about Manhattan. The variance between neighborhoods is remarkable, even though the island covers only about 23 square miles. When I try to think of an iconic NYC scene, I vacillate between the grandiosity of Fifth Ave, the vivacity of Broadway, or the intimacy of the West Village.

But the darker side of my theory is this – you are never alone New York City, yet it’s all too easy to feel more lonely than you ever would in any other city. 

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