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this is new york (the poem)

people wait hours to slurp and sip

cut corners to cross the street

no running

just power walking

men still wear suits on saturdays

some push by boots or on heels

hot dogs carts as hybrids of halal food

cheeks are hallowed and eyes are sunken

but the young are hungry

and the restless can’t sleep

enhance, enhance, enhance

up, up, up

me, me, me

every block is a neighborhood

every corner stands a possibility

old friends still crash at laundromats

never see others

nail salons are as plenty as are the girls who frequent them

chains set up shop

around and around we go

if fame rules l.a.

power guards washington

money is the name game here

spanish-speaking working bees get up at the earliest dawn

gibberish on the lips who’ve been chatting all night

kids grow up with such wit and swagger

street music rises like steam through the grates

for the hustlers and the aimless

profits imagined

dreams realized

new york, new york.

sore @$$

my sorry ass that fears to fail

my sorry ass without real connections 
my sorry ass won’t find someone 
my sorry ass so frustrated i can’t get through to my mom
my sorry ass that doesn’t get credit for the little things that add up 
only to feel inadequate in the end
my sorry ass. 
Found this poem while I was clearing out my drafts folder from 2008! Was probably tired of sitting on my butt with these negative thoughts! 

Weekend yogic lessons

via @OmFactoryNYC (Chris Loebsack & Amanda McDonald):

  • Don’t chase the sensation, but stability in the framework you have.
  • Simple things are beautiful. But you can spice things up, too.
  • Care for and care about yourself. You can set the tone for others.
  • Doing the opposite action can help you get to the real goal. 
  • There’s no right or wrong… but bad and better. 
  • Plan for reality, not the ideal. 
  • Whether you know it or not, you’re doing more than one thing at once. 

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¿K pasa?

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