The NYC Journal by Virag Gulyas


Everything is a first. There are no seconds. There are no thirds. There are only firsts. Firsts have the juice. Firsts have the passion. Firsts have the thirst and the curiosity. Firsts are the things we live for.

It was June. A warm but hazy June. I could see the Central Park and the Hudson from above. That is all I could recognize. It was my first.

My palms were sweating, my heart was beating faster than a relaxed heart, my stomach was aching from the knot in its middle. It was my first.

My luggage arrived, and I was out bBreathing the warm, humid, smog –filled air. I was at home. For the very first time.

I got into a cab. It took me through the streets I saw for the very first time. Then I smiled, and my eyes got filled with tears. I just passed by the…

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