£ov€VIV€.

It's so funny how the inhabitants of one little island can be worlds apart from each other. In the years that I've called this place home, I have been blessed to view the city from many different angles: From a fifth floor walk up on the Upper East Side to a coveted Washington Heights 3-bedroom. Whether I catch glimpses of the East River or the Hudson, dream to the lullaby of the FDR or the West Side Highway, one key thing remains the same. Manhattan can be so tribal and hung up on addresses that we fail to realize that we are all people. We love. We hate. We bleed. At the end of the day, there are more important things in this world than whether or not you have a doorman or you live in the projects. Wake up, New York. It's time.