Once there was a girl from New York who had a plan and thought that having a plan was enough. Until that plan didn't work out and she realized that plans are never finite. So she stopped planning and started to live by the wind, moving wherever it took her with the clothes on her back and a MetroCard she may still have use for. She started rolling with different crews and talking to the birds to learn as much as she could. Eventually she began to make a home, however temporary it may be. And while she found a job and kept a regular schedule she still didn't have a plan. This started to scare the friends she flew from and concern the friends she flew to. And while the boys always found her so charming, even they too were left unsettled as they went with the flow, wanting to ground her but knowing she couldn't be caged. And whenever she sensed anything resembling love and commitment she flew away.
Until one day this girl from New York realized how long it had been since she actually used her MetroCard. And she began to long for the love like she had known when she once had a plan. She went from not being able to picture a stable life to feeling the pang of longing whenever she saw children. She wanted to stop flying, she wanted to feel at home, she wanted to let her guard down and stop being scared, she wanted a plan. But she didn't know how to go about it.
The girl from New York thought to seek answers from the Buddah in the road but wasn't sure if he'd talk to her. So she continued searching until she saw a local drunk she recognized sitting on a piece of cardboard on the corner. She stopped and asked him what he thought her life plan should be but the only thing she could decipher was "Get me a bottle of wine." Not the answer she was looking for, she gave him some change and continued to walk. Realizing the only thing she could do is search within herself, she felt more lost than ever. She started to cry and when she heard the sound of her tears hitting a puddle at her feet instead of the ground, she wanted to see herself. Staring down at her reflection in this puddle, she thought that maybe this is where her future laid. Like waiting for a fotune teller to interpret what the cards say, the girl from New York just stood and stared, willing something to happen.
Soon the image staring back at her began to change. Her reflection blurred and morphed into a vision of herself that she did not recognize. A mature face from the years that had passed, this version of the girl from New York looked content, if not happy.
The wind blew and ripples in the puddle began to distort the image once again. The girl from New York was left with her reflection in the puddle. Although she still did not have a plan, she was calm and reassured with a feeling that everything would work out in the end. The only thing she now had to decide was if she was going to stay or if she would fly.
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with love and squalor at the original writers desk i asked for art, for colors and blends and the bending of the Brooklyn sky, growing up i wanted to be a lot of things, like cruising down the California of my mind, past the Sunset Blvd of time, the crisp Santa Monica air fills my lungs, I dreamt about the 1960's and the advent of insanity, of my non existent literary success, of the will to rise at 6am to look so smooth in a suit i bend into the turnstyle, with my shirt sleeves rolled up, i know of duration, convexity, volatility and the dexterity of my words sits like a stone in my stomach, i must've swallowed rocks for breakfest, its no big deal, i do it everyday...
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