I woke up this morning on a couch in Queens. Ten minutes later I was on the subway. Fifteen minutes after that I was in midtown. Somehow in the middle of the Puerto Rican Day Parade.

I smiled at people in the street. Every single one of my senses devoured the city. I wrote poetry. I beamed from ear to ear.

I belong here.

Oh! And do you know what else happened today? I ran into not one, but TWO people who I love. One in Midtown, and the other in Astoria. I have encountered two people who I know out and about in town two times prior, during this entire life. So like I was saying, I’m fairly certain the Universe is cutting me a break and ready to open me an entrance back to where I’m simply meant to be.

Did I mention I scored another interview next week?

After all of the reeling, running, skipping, and writing. My standard state of melancholy that’s been set in for a few weeks returned. The one that clutches and twists my brain with steady whispers of –

Novel’s still not finished. You’ve only got three weeks in town. What am I doing?

That’s when my phone buzzed a Tweet in my pocket with “I love you work and devotion… I am eating from it pretty much every day…”

Not only was the timing impeccable. But the love came from the madly talented Reneir Beshir whose beats I’ve been bouncing to all afternoon.

I’m going to keep on with that, instead of having an anxiety attack. I’m going to scribble poetry and sculpt a spoken New York City piece over one of Reneir’s tracks.

Moments like this… I remember why my life is dedicated to Art. I’m in my favorite place in the world. I’ve got three ink refills and a fresh book of pages. I certainly didn’t come all of this way to stress out.

I came to write…