Memory Has A Heavy Backspin, Yet It’s

She's Always Thought That One Of The Beauties Of New York Is That You Can Be From Anywhere And Within Moments Of Landing Its Yours.

I'm Of The Opinion That The Real Is Imagined And The Imagined Is Quite Real. The Real Is Imagined, In The Sense That We Shape Our Stories, So Anything That Even Happens On The News Gets Shaped In A Certain Way And Gets A Texture, And That The Imagined Can Be Real.

The Person We Know At First, She Thinks, Is Not The One We Know At Last.

The World Spins. We Stumble On. It Is Enough.

There's A Part Of Me That Thinks Perhaps We Go On Existing In A Place Even After We've Left It.