I'm in one of those moods again. And I've been feeling that sensation I wrote about a few posts back. Detached, suspended... a little bit hollow.

Things in New York seem to drift along esoteric paths... more so than any other place I've been to. People here seem like mannequins, just put here for my greater shopping enjoyment, you know? They don't seem real. And when I bump into them while walking down the street, I'm always a little surprised that my shoulder doesn't go right through them... This place feels strangely unreal. Which is weird, since this is supposed to be the most real, grittiest city on earth. Feelings are supposed to be enhanced and magnified in New York rather than diluted and suppressed.

I think I'm suffering from an Expectations Vs. Reality issue.

Things over here don't seem to be going according to plan. And I know that this post is supposed to be a confessional of sorts... but divulging anything more than what I've already written would require a commitment from me that I am, as yet, not ready to offer...

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Birds go flying at the speed of sound, to show you how it all began....

-Layla

17:16