The problem with your late twenties is that it is, usually, when you realize you will die. You’ve found white hairs and most, if not all, of your grandparents are dead. And by your late twenties, you’ve mostly landed yourself in one career or another, some white-collar hole, and let’s just say the cement has been poured. Only later do you realize you’ve effectively poured your own pair of cement feet. For now, it’s the crap on the sidewalk you just want to write your initials in. Later, it’s some sort of gravestone. I’m not trying to scare you, I’m just letting you know if you want to get out, get out before it’s too late.
Subway MapSubway Philosophy is about New York, culture, sex, publishing, memories, alcohol, or a combination of the above. Originally taken from drunken musings on the subway, it has evolved into something extraordinarily similar to most young blogs: which is to say, redundant, romantic, and woefully introspective.
Current Subway ReadingWhite Teeth