The noises, the people, the city.
I've been in love with New York since my first visit,
I was fourteen years old and I had the entire city for myself.
I was young and innocent, I didn't even know what love was.
My second visit, with a more mature point of view, I traveled to visit my boyfriend's family for Christmas.
Innocent in a way, thought he was the love of my life.
This visit was full of snow and cold memories about a love that wasn't true.
But that's not important.
New York with its dangers fascinated me.
The dark, the dirty subways, the creeps, the weirdos.
Every little single detail was calling my name.
The city where you either make it or become nothing.
That was it.
This was the place where I'd find my inspiration and be entirely happy.
Where I could write until my hand couldnt take it anymore.