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Archive for November, 2017

Excerpt from one of my current works from the perspective of a young disillusioned character:
I was looking at the moon the other night, luminescent in its orb, suspended in the sky. But it was of course New York City, and it was one of those nights when the moon is bright, yet the stars are nowhere to be seen, no matter how hard you scrutinize the sky. And it made me think about the beauty of people – how everyone walks around with a misty, veiled smoke around them, a facade they put on for the sake of society, pretending they’re so bad-ass or so darned brilliant or confident or sane or okay. Just okay. But by the unwritten, unspoken laws of society, everyone must hide what makes them truly beautiful – their flaws, their quirks, their sadness, their insecurities, their insanities, their frustrations, their urge to scream. To be real, or show emotion, or be different, is social suicide. And so they hide this beauty behind their veils of smoke like the way the beauty of the stars are veiled by carbon dioxide and monoxide and nitrogen and I don’t even know what other oxides in this city of a thousand lights and smokes.

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