There’s some sort of storyteller’s poetry to crying on a New York subway.
Trains are impersonal - everyone does their best to keep quiet, keep to themselves, and keep their lives away from those of strangers. However, sometimes, that desire to keep things impersonal gets breached, and one has to simply let it out. And there’s almost something beautiful occurring to watch someone in the throes of experiencing a feeling - and if you’re the one crying, for a second, you feel like you’re the only one in New York who is feeling anything at that moment. Sometimes, to allow people watch you experience that moment is the thing you need to ground yourself.
M
