Personal Space
I was in a crowded subway car and people just kept getting in. It got really packed and I was pressed against a tall woman in a spotted fake cat fur coat.
I was in a crowded subway car and people just kept getting in. It got really packed and I was pressed against a tall woman in a spotted fake cat fur coat.
I was standing on the corner watching cars go by really fast and I was thinking how It would be cool to be like a light pole. Then when people hit me it would be like hitting a light pole, the car would be totally destroyed and I would be fine.
(This is an editorial I wrote that was never printed)
New York’s skyline is like an explanation of our existence. We live in this jagged, vertical word where we travel up and down as often as we move across the landscape. Up into our apartments, down to the grocery store, down to the subway, up to the café, up further to work. Life in New York is like a game of Chutes and Ladders.
I was sitting in a room on Lexington Avenue and I could feel Central Park for some reason. I could feel it through the wall, three blocks away, like the trees were looking at me.
I was thinking the other day about when I used to lay on the grass in Tompkins Square Park and pretend like I was outside, like outside of the city. And I would look around before I lay down because I didn’t want to lie on a half eaten hamburger or dog crap or an old heroin needle.
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