rooftop of The Metropolitan Museum, the view is a true spectacle.
I don't know, living life I guess. I've recently discovered the pleasure of turning my weekends into an excuse to get out of the city. It's great therapy to relieve any personal baggage you may have, but a few trips here and there can turn wanderlust into a total addiction. I think I'm teetering towards the addiction - trying to head West later this year.
You'll find a lot of my adventures told in photographs. I'm trying to break the habit of excluding my life to my semi-new iPhone 5 (before this I had the prehistoric Blackberry, and the infamous Hello Kitty phone that those closer to me are very familiar with), using Instagram as an unreliable (but hella fun) method of documenting my life, losing the longevity and tangible value of paper diary entries and film that holds more to memory than an app that may see it's cyber grave within five years. Photobucket/Myspace, anyone? With that said, I think I'm writing inside the coffin of my blog's own grave site. Or Blogspot is still in descend six feet under. I don't mind the secrecy. -- Also, my second mix for Workin Nights has been posted on the website. Thanks to TK Nicholson and Mike Martinez for the opportunity to contribute to a wonderful site. Not for the faint of heart, but otherwise check it out.
- R
