soft morning light through a brownstone window. it's raining, still. despite the cold, warm skin and dirty hair.
i woke up thinking of skyscrapers made of books and marcel proust.
...not in seeking new landscapes but in having new eyes.
i hop and skip around the city. park slope, soho, williamsburg, lower east side, upper west side, bed-stuy. tomorrow i go to a city two hours south, only to return to more friends, more skips.
breathing easy in a city of smog.
sometimes clarity and uncertainty are great tools for adventure.
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