—-

slipped through my fingers and the winds kicked up. disappeared behind the rush of a passing train. i turned around, and you vanished. out of my presence, out of view, out of reach.

in all of these places i’ve loved you. i’ve despised you. i’ve missed you, pined for you, lost you.

but i do see you there in the details. the echoes and the memories which manifest like phantoms of the past. and just like those blessed and beautifully delicate memories, they continue to haunt me, both good and bad ones. hopes among the despair, glimmers of gladness in the shuffle.

and they shape who i have become and continue to be. things happened like they happened, and of course it’s fine. this is the grasp of a linear life.

what a lovely tragedy, this melancholic existence. we are destined to feel from the first to the last, and in all that exquisite sustained lifetime in between.

—-

—- 
 some nights you have to embrace the close-quarter chaotic rumbling mouth-hot chatterbox echo overlapping grit gold neon flashing subterranean hollows of new york. 
 its embrace is a slightly uncomfortable alluring and confusing one, but what variety. what distinction and electricity. 
 the successful navigation through the multitudes of long faces and loud contortions both invigorates and restores. it becomes a rite and method of passage. 
 and at times you find yourself flush with a wide beam of spreading elation, traveling like the tributaries of lightning throughout your entirety. 
 —-

—-

some nights you have to embrace the close-quarter chaotic rumbling mouth-hot chatterbox echo overlapping grit gold neon flashing subterranean hollows of new york.

its embrace is a slightly uncomfortable alluring and confusing one, but what variety. what distinction and electricity.

the successful navigation through the multitudes of long faces and loud contortions both invigorates and restores. it becomes a rite and method of passage.

and at times you find yourself flush with a wide beam of spreading elation, traveling like the tributaries of lightning throughout your entirety.

—-

—- 
 on the first day of spring here in nyc, i walked around until i found the ideal image of the day. 
 it was one of great attraction, an obvious great timing, and of course the choice content. 
 mid/late afternoon glowing golden light throughout the buildings. we at times find ourselves to in awe, that when faced with utter reality, it seems manufactured. 
 i was just so supremely content to know that this particular scene was shown to me at the end of a day losing steam. 
 what a beauty. 
 —-

—-

on the first day of spring here in nyc, i walked around until i found the ideal image of the day.

it was one of great attraction, an obvious great timing, and of course the choice content.

mid/late afternoon glowing golden light throughout the buildings. we at times find ourselves to in awe, that when faced with utter reality, it seems manufactured.

i was just so supremely content to know that this particular scene was shown to me at the end of a day losing steam.

what a beauty.

—-

—- 
 more rain in the forecast last night. and for a moment, it seemed like all the rainwater runoff, was flowing straight into my shoes. 
 the squish squish squish of wet shoes, wet socks, and eventually wet feet. 
 and what can you really do? 
 i mean, each time i feel like breaking out new shoes, it begins to rain. just like each time i feel like my day has gone completely full-tilt bananas, i find out it’s the full moon. 
 things happen, and you deal with them. elevated or serene, these occurrences do not have to define us. you can meet them full-faced and allow them access to your heart-space, where if you wish, they may reside and affect. 
 this ole goddamn long life with my sore muscles down through the meat to the bones…who cares about sopping wet feet in a rainstorm? 
 i’ve other worries and amazing things to attend to. 
 squish squish squish. 
 —-

—-

more rain in the forecast last night. and for a moment, it seemed like all the rainwater runoff, was flowing straight into my shoes.

the squish squish squish of wet shoes, wet socks, and eventually wet feet.

and what can you really do?

i mean, each time i feel like breaking out new shoes, it begins to rain. just like each time i feel like my day has gone completely full-tilt bananas, i find out it’s the full moon.

things happen, and you deal with them. elevated or serene, these occurrences do not have to define us. you can meet them full-faced and allow them access to your heart-space, where if you wish, they may reside and affect.

this ole goddamn long life with my sore muscles down through the meat to the bones…who cares about sopping wet feet in a rainstorm?

i’ve other worries and amazing things to attend to.

squish squish squish.

—-

—- 
 take me home, take me home. 
 when ice and sludge and snowdrift seeps into your shoes and down your collars. when everyone around is reaching their tipping point on courtesy. when you’re spending more time on slowed trains than warm at home. 
 damn does that emergency brake look tempting to pull. but you’ll not stop old man winter. so we flex out patience, and wait it out however begrudgingly. 
 —-

—-

take me home, take me home.

when ice and sludge and snowdrift seeps into your shoes and down your collars. when everyone around is reaching their tipping point on courtesy. when you’re spending more time on slowed trains than warm at home.

damn does that emergency brake look tempting to pull. but you’ll not stop old man winter. so we flex out patience, and wait it out however begrudgingly.

—-

—-

winterstorm hercules and the expected 10 inches of snowfall looming in the forefront of people’s minds. the trains are full and everyone looks a mixture of gloom and uncertainty.

i remain unworried and unfettered.

when i exit the station on the brooklyn side, i see the light coming out from the small tailor’s shop and just beeline towards it. a single man is cobbling a pair of shoes, and passersby quickly shuffle along the sidewalk.

looking up and into the night, sugary crystals float on invisible winds, swirling and lilting while the elation in my chest expands.

—-

—- 
 the terrifying prospect of not having it all together as we near the end of this year, and how that’s fine. 
 at least have a sense of direction if burdened with no clear destination. at least have that. 
 alone together at all times. things may not feel like it now, but they’re looking up as much as you feel all is lost. 
 the belief that you are alone in all of these thoughts, experiences, and feelings. and how completely the opposite is true. 
 —-

—-

the terrifying prospect of not having it all together as we near the end of this year, and how that’s fine.

at least have a sense of direction if burdened with no clear destination. at least have that.

alone together at all times. things may not feel like it now, but they’re looking up as much as you feel all is lost.

the belief that you are alone in all of these thoughts, experiences, and feelings. and how completely the opposite is true.

—-