What Remains Of Your Past If You

I Do Not Go Outdoors. Not More Than I Have To. As Far As I'm Concerned, The Whole Point Of Living In New York City Is Indoors. You Want Greenery? Order The Spinach.

Everybody's Got Something. In The End, What Choice Does One Really Have But To Understand That Truth, To Really Take It In, And Then Shop For Groceries, Get A Haircut, Do One's Work; Get On With The Business Of One's Life. That's The Hope, Anyway.

New York Is Breaking My Heart. I’ve Often Said That It’s Like Having A Really Interesting Boyfriend Suddenly Becoming Really, Really Into Wine, And Having To Have Endless Conversations About It.

Have You Ever Had One Of Those Moments When You Know That You're Being Visited By Your Own Future? They Come So Rarely And With Little Fanfare, Those Moments. They're Not Particularly Photogenic. There's No Breach In The Clouds To Reveal The Shining City On A Hill. No Folk Dancing Children Outside Your Bus, No Production Values To Speak Of- Just A Glimpse Of Such Quotidian, Incontrovertible Truth That After The Initial Shock At The Supreme Weirdness Of It All, A Kind Of Calm Sets In. So This Is To Be My Life.

In My Brief Glimpse Of What Is To Come I Realize How Little I Care To Witness It. I Have Seen The Future And I'm Fairly Relieved To Say, It Looks Nothing Like Me.