“ I miss getting lost. I miss blending in. I miss being suspicious. I miss being a drifter with a camera in a strange town. I miss walking tough in a bad neighborhood, changing my gait and clutching my fist, becoming John Wayne for three blocks. I miss getting away with it. I miss sneaking in. I miss the infinite possibilities of Penn Station, the notion of picking up and using instinct, inspiration and a new pair of New Balance sneakers as a compass. I miss just making it. I miss being on top, and all the illusions that accompany it. I miss you, the crowd of bodies jostling for number one, the human race, the vantage enjoyed only by the vertical bi-ped, waiting in line for a ham sandwich, a bank check, a new passport. I miss feeling nervous and guilty about cops, confident their x-ray eyes could see in my pants pocket. Oh, the things I miss.
Patrick O’Brien
4 months ago