Conduit to Atlantic

I bitch about this city all the time. It's no secret, I miss the cold mountains and the quiet earth, I miss that complexity. But when you've been away--when you come back to New York City--when you're in that cab, after that line and the man at the end with the ticket you don't need--when you're finally sinking into the seat and remembering how the hell to get to Bushwick--it's energy starts seeping back into you, and you actually say out loud, "it's good to be home".