Read: New York Journal


No, that’s not a typo. I’m back in New York. It’s strange coming back here so soon. More work to do. This time there is a film to be made. Thankfully I will neither be the featured individual nor the filmmaker, but I will be involved. Partial observer. The content will remain a secret for now, but it will be worth your time investment when it hits the airwaves.

Well folks, we’ve got some gusty winds down there,” the pilot says. The girl next to me looks at the ceiling and takes short breaths. The streets are quiet, the air crisp. I see friends at baggage claim. “Where are you going out?” they ask, assuming I’m on vacation. . I don’t answer because I don’t go out. I trade the excitement and buzz of going out for the pure joy of things like expense reports and drawing out plans for the following day. Notes. Always taking notes.

Outside my window I stare at the neighboring buildings. Curtains lit by the blue glow. Row upon row of them. The flicker.The last bit of respite before the pressure of tomorrow becomes all too real.

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