perfection personified on a chilly-autumn, typically New York day with the most lush red-wine and daffodil yellow coloured leaves whispering with the winds…walking down a path that seemed to have been created for our serendipitous moments…pale sunlight silting through the castle and the trees…they weren’t real new yorkers said the nypd officer but what did he know… today, they were the most new york they had ever been.

it’s all fake
but it’s so beautiful
i don’t doubt if for a moment

the playwright and the director. they had been as naive as the world would allow; the bitter, hardened cynic taking a day off. they had changed but they were still the same, as flawless as they had been the first day. a day spent is a day less they had but a brand new world awaited and it’d be just as cosmically wonderous as this one.

and i wish i had lived like that…a bundled up child on a nippy autumn afternoon on a day trip to one of the greatest museums in the world so that i’d grow as an aesthete…thanks in part to my bohemia-inspired parents, to walk through impeccable man-made-nature, to take in the most cultured of worlds.

just to sit and to be…to let the world, in all of its glory, wash over me. but i’m not all that different because i’ve longed for this before i knew of it.

“you’ve got the accent and she’s got the look. you’re perfect together.”