the little things

the man always on my train ride home from work, walking through the cars, selling batteries.

the corner of my block where there always is a homeless man sitting over the gutter, drinking a two liter of pepsi. it is never the same man, but it is always a two liter of pepsi.

the little girl who cried in my office yesterday at 5pm because she felt guilty for having someone arrested.

these little things – these are the things that i don’t know if i can resolve in new york city. these are the things that make me want to run away, but then make me want to stay.

but the big things are the reason why i have to go. the big things that should make up my life…
the 5:00 am crying sessions after saying goodbye – that must stop. i need to be happy.

in “The Secret Lives of Bees” May has a wailing wall where she stuffs papers carrying the weight of the world. i feel like i need that sometimes – a place to pay homage to the seeming injustice and sadness that consumes this place.

but when i am with him, i don’t feel the weight of the world. i feel like i can take risks and succeed and that good might actually win out in the end.

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