kerryingon

You’re in New York City.

They will be prettier than you,

smarter than you,

faster than you,

ahead of you,

bolder than you,

better dressed than you,

more cutthroat than you,

pushier than you,

and a million other things that you will see every day.

They came from small towns just like yours

with big dreams - just like yours.

They, too, were the school president,

the cheerleader,

one of the popular girls.

They’ll be in line at that audition,

in the same subway car,

at the same bar.

They’ll have a better resume,

a better boyfriend,

a better apartment,

a better social life

and a better wardrobe.

They’ll stroll down the streets

(they wear heels every day)

with smiles on their faces,

something shiny on their body

and arms linked through another’s.

In that moment you will wonder if they’re more alive than you

(they aren’t)

or if you’re missing something they have

(you aren’t).

You will wonder if maybe it’s time to go have a life

where you don’t see dead rats every day

or can purchase a box of cereal for less than six dollars.

You’re in New York City.

Everybody here came from being the best somewhere else.

They’ve got all of these things on you

but you’ve got

you.

And try as they might, they can’t buy it in a store

or drink it from a glass 

or laugh it into existence.

They can’t offer what you can because you are the absolute best at being you.

It really is that simple.

If you wear the same dress,

pin your hair the same way,

do what you’re told

and sing a perfect 16 bars.

They will never even see you.

Rock your converse,

sing whatever you feel like

and don’t complain about having to wait all day

just to hear “thank you”.

After all, this is what you came here for, right?

You. Not them, just you.