Concrete Jungle Where Dreams Are Made Of

This place is my future home. I don't know what it is about it that lures me in- the miserable traffic, seas of people, blaring car horns and sirens, blinding lights.

Yes. All of that. I want it all. 

I understand that I'll most likely live in a one roomed flat, with room for a bed and a dresser and bathtub, living off Ramen and things I can shove into the microwave, but in a way, that's kind of ideal for me.

The food, the streets, the lights, the metro, the sights, wearing scarves and thick coats in the winter, the tiny little coffee shop that will await me every single morning, is some of the few things I dream about.

As Jay-Z would say, I've got an Empire State of Mind. I want to live in New York City.