stillness in the sleepless city

Sitting still in New York City, I can poignantly feel the stagnant, strange lack of synergy all around me.

A city that seemingly recently opened back up in the hopes of thriving as it once did, is, today, lackluster, foggy, and fearful at best. This energy in downtown Manhattan, the self-proclaimed confidence capital of the U.S., is completely foreign and quite frankly, creepy. The area holds an unrecognizable sensitivity that could chill a lifelong New Yorker to the bone.

This vibe, of course, is thanks to the political standstill at which our country sits. Patiently tapping our collective foot whilst waiting upon midwestern states to decide our fate. Trepidly stirring our coffee, gingerly checking the news, waiting, wishing, and hoping. Aggressive in nature, this is not the New York I know. But things are out of our control. You can see it in everyone’s eyes.

Meanwhile, the day must go on. Markets soar, people capitalize, children trot off to (virtual) school, and commuters flit about, Wednesdays being their in-office day of the week. Hazily rubbing our eyes post-pandemic (I use this term cautiously), hoping for a sense of clarity, yet, like an eye exam, our future remains blurry at best. We all knew this anxiety-inducing day of waiting would come, and yet somehow, there wasn’t enough preparation in existence for yet another American uncertainty.

Many take to social media, tapping away at passionately worded pleas, messages of support, and, as always “50% off Your First Order!” A desperate attempt at escapism, some of us craft jokes and create content aimed to please or pander. But the underlying unknown casts a deep shadow over the day, darker than the night sky at 4:30pm EST. Nearly 24 hours since polls closed on one of the most prolific and intensely influential elections our country has seen in decades, and all we can do is wait.