There is something about New York… something about it. Everything is magnified, the pressure of living in such unbearable prolixity expressed in a screeching tension, a never-ending dog-whistle, every one of us fuckers running around an interminable hamster wheel like rabid rodents on speed. As soon as you leave, throw your head back, breath clean air, relax, you remember that there is a life outside of New York City and it’s as good as anything inside it. But after a month or so you forget, crave the adrenaline again, the city-fix, knowing that with it comes burn-out, the unbearable comedown, a time not too far away when the bottom falls out of your world, over and over and over.