new york can be a difficult place to describe. never has a city of so many paradoxes existed. there are moments i feel this indescribably deep love for it. and then moments and days and months where i can barely breathe here, where i want to run screaming from my own skin.
i've been hating the city of late. and so everyone asks me the same question, when was the last time you got away? when was the last time you went home? away? august to chicago. home? march.
all new yorkers know you must constantly flee this place in order to sustain and cultivate your love for it.
tomorrow, if i can wake in time to make my flight, i'll wing my way toward that great state of texas. and there i'll spend near a week so that when i do return...well, the hope is i'll be a bit more palatable (for everyone, to everyone, including myself).
what all this really means is just one more day to keep that wicked jaw in check. wish me luck.