Someone I’m not sure who said “once you drink from that muddy water”…or something like that. I can’t say when I took my first sip, it may have been on the first day I was here, took a wrong turn, and ran into a second line, or the first bite of a hot sausage po-boy, or today when I heard a lone trumpet player belt out his version of St James Infirmary in the sleepy afternoon in Jackson Square, but its getting to me. And even though I still feel like a tourist, I can’t pronounce any of the streets/foods/names, and I have no idea how to get around, this is my city. I’m drinking that water.
Something is different for me now though. There’s blood in that water. The cities suffering seems so much more tangible now. When I can watch footage and see places that I drive by.
I don’t think, if I stay here too long, that I’ll be able to live anywhere else. I’m invested.