Skyline

The sun beams across the island, making it sparkle and shine like you've seen in movies, and in your dreams. You remind yourself that reality is beautiful, too. The cat stretches out along your keyboard, insisting now is not the time for work, but your body breathes again and doesn't have time for diversions. There's something in your smile that sets my cells straight again, there's something in long runs along the river that clear out the fog from my eyes and do you know, I think everything's going to be okay.

The Monday bar is a Tuesday bar decked in Halloween lights and pumpkin ghouls, you don't even mind the changing of the seasons as long as it keeps telling you stories to write. It has yet to fail you. Last night in the Village I looked up MacDougal to see the Empire State Building and all its lights were turned off, like an ominous reminder without saying of what, and by the time I reached Hudson street it was beaming in all its colors again as though nothing ever went askew, and do you know, New York?

We all fail, sometimes. We all go dark when we're meant to be beaming. You have failed me and hurt me and piled garbage on everyone that came to you with soft shelled dreams in their hands, New York but do you know? You've made up for it hundred-fold. We all fail, sometimes.

The only way we redeem ourselves, is by getting back up again. The way we redeem ourselves, is by sparkling until they know we're worth it, and no one can tell them they're wrong to leave their dreams in our hands.