I remember walking home from the roosevelt station on 74th street (Jackson Heights) and thinking how I haven't written anything in such a long time. I remember thinking how much more writing I had done when I went away to school. How much easier it is for me to think when I'm outside of New York. Then I leave, and all I want to do is write about the city. All I want to do is remember everything I saw and did and all the people I know. 

I was walking through Chinatown on one of my last nights in New York. A neighborhood I love. Grit and grime was plastered to the walls.  I could hear the secrets on the top floors, and imagined the rooftops crawling with stories from people I'll never know.  I glanced to a series of gates. Splashed on four consecutive store fronts were tags from LEWY an NYC graff veteran. 

I'm not religious. You know I don't care much for karma. Live your life and make your own decisions. Tokyo, ominous as it is, welcomed me wholeheartedly this week. I glanced to my left on the crowded streets of Shinjuku and LEWY my trusty chinatown friend, was staring right at me. He didn't want to chat much however. "Keep walking - I'll be here for a while" he said. "Enjoy."