Big City Speed Limit...
A pulsating on into night and beneath the watch of a moon rising unrestrained. Going even though you cannot go in the vast expanse of Others' goings. This is the meaning of the 25 miles per hour speed limit sign in New York. An intervention into Calamity's brink.
But no engine sits idle in the big City night and there in between the bumper of the one behind and the tail of another in front are great stirrings of steam rising through potholes, the wishes blown upwards by subway carts hurtling underneath. All of this inhaled by the jaywalkers till the energy on the road passes in kinetic transfer onto the Manhattan sidewalk of bob-and-weavers and go-betweens.
The younger ones trip up and the older ones 'have a fall' and Humility becomes seized in how they each pick themselves up and rise again, a shaping and being shaped by the American dream. Dreaming is done here by the grit of the curb. It drips from faces drooping downcast to search through their misfortunes in the many cracks, cliffs and grates on which sneakers scrape or it cakes the smile of the doer who has successfully reckoned with his ailments and now writes new ways forward by a gaze skimming the rooftops where his Spirit perches to bask in a horizon of many suns falling over and again to blankets of stars. #writing #streamofconsciousness #diary #newyorkcity #NY #traffic #speedlimit #signs #dreams #being #Life