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About New York City

So, I’m thinkin, maybe I hit up some shady corner—prolly get lost, tho. GPS ain’t helpin with *this* gig, ya feel me? I’m all excited, like, “This is it, big win!”—total Michael Scott energy. But then, bam, reality hits. Cops everywhere, sketchy vibes, and I’m sweatin like, “Abort, abort!” Made me so mad—why’s it gotta be so hard? Like, c’mon, universe, throw me a bone!

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I know some corners others don’t, ya know? Like that abandoned warehouse on Cherry Ln that now hosts impromptu art jams and secret gigs. The energy there—fuh – it’s like, "I’m too old for dis, but dis is my soul!" LOL. And then there’s the hidden alley behind Lancaster St. where local poets scribble dreams on walls. Crazy scattered, real spontaneous... reminds me of those to-and-fro cuts in that movie. The delirious notes, the mad dreams—so emotional man!

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