I didn’t look at him while I sang, even though I’m pretty sure I was singing to him… or about him. I looked at a random stranger. I didn’t look at my husband either, though he was in the room. My husband is definitely not the “worrisome thing” the song was referencing.
...read more here
…there is always that moment when you look out the window and see autumn colored ivy growing on the brownstone walls in Harlem, and everything becomes all right again.
...read more here
Me: If you were a tourist, you’d have a return ticket.
Him: Good point.
Me: You’re a new New Yorker.
I choose to be alone tonight. I am damn good company all by myself, am I not? When I am done with my coffee, I’ll take a walk. I have not decided whether I will walk uptown or downtown or west…
...read more here
I wish I’d had a weapon, or that I’d had longer nails. I wish I’d had a stick or a broken bottle. I wish I’d thought to poke his eyes out. I would have gone to jail, but it would have been worth it.
...read more here
He told me he wanted to tell me something which he didn’t want me to tell anyone. My response was “Who would I tell anyway?” Of course, in retrospect, there are quite a few people I could tell, including you. And granted, you don’t know him, or even really me, or anyone else involved, but I feel compelled to silence.
...read more here
For some reason, the thought of the old man cold-sweating and pacing frantically in a jail cell, albeit only for one night, is just not that funny to me. In fact, it’s a thought that makes me want to stop thinking about it.
...read more here
I ate my yogurt while pacing and singing loudly along with John Legend playing on the mall’s intercom system and thinking maybe this was my destination… maybe I’m never going to be home unless I’m somewhere pacing in the dark in Brooklyn…
...read more here
In Times Square, an M&M was playing tag with a small child. I shit you not. “Tag! You’re it!” said the child and took off running down Broadway with a big foamy yellow M&M chasing after him.
...read more here
There has to be some corner of the city, some cardboard box or other into which I can crawl and hide when I’m done with the world. I already know that it’s up to me to create this box. I just wish I knew where to find some fucking cardboard…
...read more here
