These late nights have exhausted me to the point that I’m pretty confident that I now have a sinus infection or just a really bad cold.
In a lot of ways, NYC’s a small town. You keep running into the same face, the same old ghosts.
The kid and I went on a quest the other day – all over the city in search of some loot.
Went to a medical appointment at a building I’d been to many times before. And hope never to see again. But that’s most likely impossible.
Did you know that we’re closer in time today to Cleopatra’s reign than she was in her lifetime to the building of the pyramids?
I’ve went to my basement recently, for the first time in a while, to wrestle with some old ghosts.
After dinner the other night, we walked down St. Marks and ended up at my usual haunt. There’re old ghosts everywhere we go.
Finally put up my Christmas tree with (a lot of) help from the Gymgirl. And ran into someone from my past but didn’t actually talk to her.
Thomas Mann once said that, “A man’s dying is more the survivors’ affair than his own.” I think of that every time someone I know passes. Unfortunately, that was recently.
Location: 21:00 yest, ordering another roti in Jackson Heights Mood: full Music: remember when you used to pick out my shirts? What do you think of those happy dreams where you wake up and it was just that – a happy dream? Is it better to have them so it’s real, if only for a […]