i want to go back to new york in the summertime. sweating between the shadows of the buildings, smelling the nuts and hot dogs and taxis rushing by: the sweet city air. i want to picnic in central park, just sit and wait for time to go by. the slightest of breezes cooling me and sending a myriad of scents my way. the city coming to me. calling me to explore, calling me to follow.
and when i go back to new york in the summertime, it won’t be relief. it won’t be a feeling of anticipation meeting reality. it will be simple and wondrous and filled with nothing but freedom. my thoughts finally releasing me, liberating me, allowing me to see past everything i thought i knew about life and living and all those little things.