A moment of philosophical reckoning, one it seems most passers by miss. A question on a Times Square high rise that might be talking to me.
One could either count every fleeting second of life pass us by or lose yourself in the blur of a sensory overload that that singular spot on earth can be. How so ever one may react, this Manhattan hotspot is a reminder to be ever present and live while you breath.
The Times Square skyline is constructed of neon, glass and concrete and is a resplendent and unabashed reality-check of every capitalist possibility one might imagine to be impossible. It is as much a sobering fact that for every one who makes it there are a million whose dreams end up broken-hearted.
Spring Twenty Eighteen