It is summer in New York, officially, which means I must put away my broodiness and write something cheerful. I find it unfortunate that I am not able to readily pen the beauties of life; perhaps the reason is that I am too busy enjoying them to write about them.
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On Mastering the Mundane
My room is quiet.
You wouldn’t think so, living in the city, but it’s true. With the exception of the occasional rumble of the local train, coursing the rails from Harlem to Downtown Manhattan, every dust particle floating through the air hangs on the absence of sound (can you hear Simon and Garfunkel playing softly in the recesses of your mind right now, because I surely cannot). There are tombs noisier than this.
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