For most people around the globe, America is a realm of fantasy where dreams dance to life atop golden pavements. However, the true enchantment lies in the city of New York. As the song goes "the streets will make you feel random, the lights will inspire you , and by no chance does it exaggerate the awe of New York City. At nights the bulbs of the sky-scrapers illuminate the sky-line like lights on a Christmas tree. Be it 3 a.m. in the morning or 12 at noon, the city is always in motion. The highways are stained with the yellows of taxis and the streets are aligned with girls in mini-skirts taking selfies and guys with baggy pants riding their skateboards. In the interiors of the air-conditioned rooms on the seventeenth story are men in black coats typing away furiously in their laptops. In the one-bedroom apartment a teenager is writing in her diary while her brother watches television just two feet away from her. A college freshman is sitting atop her fire escape ”propped on her lab lies open a history textbook with twentieth century pictures of the Chrysler Building. A father makes his way home from a laborious day of construction ”his hand gripping the steel pole of the train as it picks up speed. New York is a city where you can't quite tell time. It moves so fast that 60 minutes seems to be 60 seconds, and a month seems less than a week. That's how I felt when I lived in New York. Each day had a repetitive schedule, but it was so tightly bundled up that I barely had time to sign about disappointments. I would wake up at 8:30 a.m. to catch the 7 train to Thompson Street and then eat my granola bar in the elevator on the way to the 7th floor where my classes were. However, the loads of work (along with the engagement of the classes) kept me from drifting off to sleep. Before I knew it, it would be 3:15 and Mr. Mills would tell us to finish our creative writing assignment for homework. But it was after school that the real fun began. The freedom I had during freshman year was unlike the freedom I had had all my life. I was allowed to come home as late as 6 p.m. and my mother would never question where I was. Be it after school activities or "other things , she didn't really care as long as I kept up with my schoolwork. And so there was barely a day when I heade