this is my new york (prologue)

8 million people reside in New York City. Every year, the metro gets about 40 million tourists. And each of them has a story to tell about their time at the Big Apple.

I have heard my fair share of those tales. Most are fascinating, stories that are so colorful and vivid that it has momentarily enticed me to want to experience it first-hand. On the flip side however, there are those that tell of recklessness, estrangement, despair and danger that abound the city.

If you think about it, there really is so much to say about NYC - the highly-stylized skyscrapers, brownstone townhouses and shabby tenements, iconic monuments, food and shopping, nature-tripping, theatrical arts, subway and yellow cabs, crime, and the plain hustle that is to be in New York City even for just a day.

I never did any research prior to my journey. Well maybe just a bit. But I never prepared an itinerary. I wanted to be spontaneous. This trip isn't so much about being in New York than it is about me. I turned my back on security and comfort when I boarded the bus four hours ago. I want to see what it's like out there. What I'll be like out there - alone, with a few million strangers. And honestly, I am scared.

In a few minutes, I shall the walk the city that many people have talked about. I will walk and watch and listen. I will be a witness to everything so I may boast about its beauty and bitch about its ugliness. I want to have my own story.

This is my tale. This is my New York.