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About New York City

Me? I’m torn, buddy. Gets me mad—some of these girls, trapped, no way out. Like that scene, “You’re not my father!”—screamin’ at the world. But then, some choose it, own it, stackin’ cash, livin’ free. That surprises me, y’know? Power in that. I knew this chick once—Lola, called herself. Worked the Vegas strip. Told me she paid off her mom’s house in six months. Six freakin’ months! Blew my mind. “The sea’s too big,” like the movie says—life’s messy, man.

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Sometimes I get so mad when the council tries to smooth the silliness out. I mean c’mon, who needs perfect calm when life’s an unpredictable voyage? I once nearly flipped me noggin on a rainy night at Drizzle Alley – not really no alley but a dead end near the post office, where puddles reflect the cosmos like the infinite dance of creation. “The wonder”, I mutter sometimes, “is the only truth”.

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