September 9th, 2022
In DC, weird smells tend to span a 1x1 foot radius. You get a whiff of the strange metropolitan elixir of urine, marijuana, and Chemical X and just as you turn to your friend to comment, it’s gone. New York City tends to be a consistent blend of these odors. It’s rare that you walk down 2nd without contorting your nose in some ogre-ish fashion. Central park, though, seems to be immune to the urban repertoire of stink. Occasional horse manure that you can at least trace. Grass! A tinge of nature that brings me back to the green stains on the khakis of my youth.
In Hong Kong I found myself nostalgic for an open shopping center parking lot. Everything is jam-packed together like a demented Tetris puzzle. Now the grid-like structure of Manhattan shocks me when it leaves me nostalgic for even that in my intrepid journey to be anywhere other than where I am. Central Park feels like home in the sense that you can get lost in the oxymoronic maze of the city’s heart.
Alice in Wonderland is pretty cool too.
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