01 02 03 Eleanor Greer: untitled thought. 04 05 15 16 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 31 32 33

untitled thought.

There are trees on my block whose smell greets me each evening as I come up the stairs from the subway below. I pulled a small flower off and taped it to the wall beside my mirror.

Are you familiar with that stage of a vacation, any vacation, when you suddenly become very aware of the end that is approaching and perhaps you have not accomplished all that you had set out to accomplish? I think I am in that stage...and desperately resisting! How am I feeling melancholy in a place full of Woody Allen in Bryant Park, homeless flutists and sweet trees?
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