I’ve always said that if you hate natural light, space, and keeping your money, New York is a fabulous place to rent a home. (I was once shown a bedroom which had no windows, and “probably enough space” for a single bed—if you’re reading this and thinking that this bedroom sounds exactly like a corridor, that is because it was one.)
And yet, I choose to live here, because I am drawn to things that hurt me, and because I live for chicken over rice from my neighborhood street food cart, and because honestly, what would anyone need light, space, or money for.
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