Freewrite # 1637
I can't stay angry too long in this city. Lounging, half naked on my windowsill, blowing smoke rings onto Broadway, the train passes outside my window. And somehow, the clank as it passes the graffitied chiurches and soon- to- be-gentrified apartment buildings soothes me. 3 a.m. and I'm happy to be alive. The air is freedom at the cusp of fall. Across the street, someone, maybe a woman, is also blowing smoke rings out her window. Somehow, we are all surviving. Despite all the hate, all the violence, all the struggle, love will always live here.