I live second street from the Hudson. It's a short walk. I skated around Troy riverside today. I've lost a little grace on the wheels; it took a few minutes to adjust. On a brick wall half-covered in ivy, amid lovers' names, these scrawled, painted poems:
"o indifferent world
ignorance is bliss
some people never go crazy
what truly miserable
lives they must lead"
Not the best, I know, but say something, say anything. There are too many walls without words.
oh New York, what we call a city
is not a dream you know
what a strange romance you lead
with the rest of the world
I suffer from my cat's fear of abandonment. She complains about it constantly.