Come here you little nit...let me show you my City, my confusing, melancholic, aged City that makes you feel old and alive, happy and lonesome, loved and bruised.
Let me take you away to the last speakeasy and get lost in martinis and black, slinky dressed
Let me show you the rooftop which shows you the Center of the World, let me show you the tiny bakery I love, the coffee shop I want to think in, the pretty young things with cliched Louis Vuitton bags, the weary faces of the old, the same brisk pace that ties everyone and defines the City. Walk with me in the tall buildings of Midtown, the holes in the wall Downtown, the shabby chic of MeatPacking
Come away with me and let me show you me. Let me strip away the layers and see you, shed away the baggage, hang up the fears and trust me...let me take you away
Come wake up in my City now, trust me to make you smile with my own stupidity, allow me to rest my head and tell you what scares me.
Bury yourself in my bed and let me wake you. Come to the Angelika with me, the MoMA, the Park, the long, quiet walk with the world passing us by.
No, I don't want to be a tragicomic hero, just a guy who loves running his fingers in yours...
Meh, just missing you, that's all, didn't mean to be corny.
Sleep well kiddo. And stay tuned. Somehow writing here lets me shed my defenses, my humor and settle in my own vulnerability.
I must confess, it is odd, not making an effort to open up but this blog lets me be me and in someways, I like the fact that you visit these pages, and behind all the bullshit, see me in a simpler light, unencumbered by my own awkwardness
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