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About New York City

I pull up, heart poundin’—am I really doin’ this? She smirks, says, “Hey, big guy, need a hand?” I’m thinkin’, “Don’t pee on my leg, lady, I ain’t no rookie!” Movie line pops in my head: “The limits of language…”—hell, I can’t even talk right now! Tongue’s all tied, palms sweaty—pathetic. She’s chill tho, tells me her name’s Cherry. Fake as my ex’s tears, but who cares?

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Back on the ground, downtown's got a few gems; like the local diner on Main St. where everyone's a regular. I slip in there occasionally – not just to recharge my mind but to remind myself, "I am your father" of that good, old friendly vibe. Oh, and hey, check out Lewis & Clark Trail too; it's a quaint jog spot which sees morning walkers who seem like ghosts gliding through early mists—as slow and heavy as my massages.

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