here, there, and not still, and still

The past few days have found me not really concentrating at all, having mostly to deal with a bit of nonsensical activity which has despite its worthlessness lined the pockets with some greenbacks. But, much like the kind of work that is done only for money's sake, it takes away from the reality of what I could be doing in its stead.  For example, I could take a few moments and write here instead- but the sheer intensity of the activities stop both mind and body from working in the correct way.  That is, to say, I lose myself, and that is something which years of resistance to compromise makes me wary.  But, worry not- as this is only a temporary scenario, and I only wanted to mention it for mentioning's sake.

Now, to lose oneself to beauty is an entirely different thing. Old friends who know or knew me will know or knew that the city used to have more than its share of allure for me, being a child of the city.  Years having thus passed this way, I have over the last ten years moved toward the other extreme despite still living in the urban jungle.  But, there's always something keeping me here.  Somehow, there always is...

With all that said, there is a little garden in my neighborhood, a short walk away, which I pop into now and then.  Anyone with even scant knowledge of New York City will immediately conjure up images of its skyscrapers and maybe some will offer up Central Park (albeit with horse drawn carriages, the stock and trade of the tourist industry no thanks to the paper thin sentimentality of hollywood).  What I like- no, love, instead are the secret places that I hardly ever reveal.  Or at least, not on a blog- but I will share a photo of the place where for me, the city fails to hold its allure, and the hint of something much more beautiful begins to erode at the cold heart of even this jaded fool.

Along its pathways never quite walking alone