Journal Entry Notes

Lexington Avenue slopes up hill. It’s a climb. Past the Greek diners, pizza places, Indian buffets, onto hotels where business executives have their affairs, you keep climbing and climbing and climbing. But, it doesn’t necessarily feel like a hill until you turn around and walk down it. Either way, the legs get a workout. Living in Manhattan is a workout.

The stress of thousands of people coming at you. Bumping into you. Running in front of taxi’s, disregarding red lights, everyone asking for a buck at 8th and 32nd. It’s exciting for the first few weeks, then it becomes routine. Every man for himself.

I lived at a homeless drop in center for a year at 32nd and Lexington. The first few nights spent sleeping on a metal chair, television blasting, always an argument, or, a fight. Everyone is hungry, tired, and broke; financially, spiritually, and mentally. I was no exception. There is a game to be played. Just like in every boardroom and bar. You have to bend to their rules.

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