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Struggling to find my way through this busy maze, just like these New York taxis, I arrived in this city with many other hopeful and naïve dreamers. ‘The American dream’: so bright, so ambitious, so tantalizing. It was the brightest star of a dreamer’s sky, promising for a better life which couldn’t be bought anywhere else.

The heat of New York was like a mother’s warm embrace to me the first time I placed my tiny, desperate feet upon the American soil. I remember feeling so new; nothing compared to the magnitude of this city. Enamoured by the flamboyance of the giant edifices and cafes, I gladly used to stroll down the streets- a disillusioned fool- almost as if I were happy to be lost, void of any navigation. I was a defenceless ant in front of these colossal giants and any moment I would be devoured mercilessly into an oblivion where dreams never come true; only I didn’t realize it. The city was too incredible, enticing my childlike eyes with colours that never had encountered my sight before. Cacophony of car horns; the screams and swears of New York drivers; frantic typing on old-fashioned typewriters were a melody sung by a fantastical fairy to me that I slept to every night, ignoring the fact that I was so tired. So exhausted.

Suddenly, pushed violently into the reality of my fantasy city, realization poured down on me like hailstones. A realization that only came too late. Searching for a map to find myself, horns threatened to run me over whilst impatient office workers trampled on my unsheltered desires, rushing to enter the closing doors of the lift. The discordance- that I mistook for an orchestra- soon became terrifying cries of an abandoned child.

The American dream: a fairy tale stitched by a wicked witch to beguile us who perhaps dream a little too much.

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