This must be the place: ‘Let the mind beware, that though the flesh be bugged, the circumstances of existence are pretty glorious’
Sunday. Late morning. I’m awakened by the sounds of a curious dog in my upstairs neighbor’s apartment. He’s a sweet pitbull mix. Always running around the yard, happily barking at the knowns and unknowns of this big ol’ world outside of his second story window.
This must be the place: ‘That’s the story of my life rich or poor and mostly poor and truly poor’
To preface, this column does not reflect the views or opinions of this publication. For the last 12 years, this weekly column has been (and will remain) a vessel to conjure and express my own personal thoughts amid the wanderings and ponderings of my existence.