Hey Kid
I don’t know how you quite do it but you made me feel better. I can run around like a headless chicken and go through the equivalent of mental flagellations I can pretend to be all growed up and try and figure things out. But it takes a couple of lines from you and well, I realize that maybe it is okay for me to tell you when I feel like crap and perhaps listen to you to find some help.
So I guess I just wanted to thank you
I do hope you come visit. I want to sit in the Oval in the summer on the bench, watch the grey haired guys play chess on the chess top tables, watch people laze around and read a book.
I want to take you to Magnolia Bakery with the best cupcakes (and I don’t like cupcakes)
Or perhaps to Pianos, one of the last speakeasies in the city, dressed up
Come walk through the Met with me or go to Mo Pitkins House of Satisfaction or the Backfence and throw peanuts on the ground.
No, this isn’t written in a sappy vein. It’s just nice to want to share your world with someone, and I think everyone has their own take on this planet, on the City and I’d like to share it with you
2 comments:
you should've ended with 'i bet you think this post is about you'. because i did.
Sorry Bobo, while I *do* love you, I don't think it falls in the category 'Matters of the Non Head'
But yeah
:o)
You should visit too! Like I said, my couch is a-calling!
;o)
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