(July 8, 2015, 9:15 PM)
Can we be graceful in our errors?
The weight of the city is crushing.
I know this place yet I am a stranger here.
Location influences a person’s soul, and change certainly uproots memories, but what I am confused about is how we can all be on this same island and yet there is still so much loneliness in this world.
The people who make “us” up were and still are from all over. The thing we most have in common are the differences we see in others. Judgement passed on difference and righteous superiority from an unseen authority.
The myth is in the mixing.
I walk on.
Chargers plugged in.
Coffee, three cups.
Don’t fight it, more squirming makes the sinking speed up.
Consider this a small plea for patience from within.
A long stare from across the train car into my distracted reflection of a spirit.
The daemon you know is on your path isn’t something you can ignore.
I sweat, I cry, I shake, I hurt.
It makes the peace more delicious when I catch it.
This is New York City.
What are you here for?