m8, i miss you.


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I bet it was so easy for them to budget cut your weekend service. It’s always so fucking easy when you don’t know, when you can’t remember. But you do, right?   You remember those weekend afternoons you used to pick me up in front of 9th Street and ride patiently while I got lost in shameless people watching and song surfing until you finished that straight shot commute to the West Village?  Crosstown, downtown – that’s all I needed and you did both.  You.  Did.  Both.
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I’m sure, to them, it’s nothing.  Probably because they don’t know it’s just a cold weekday morning now.  The sun’s is barely up, I’m heading one way, you’re heading another, and no one, not even you or me, is looking for adventure.  And we always look away, ignoring each other because we have to.  Because we can’t.  Because we’re running late.   Because we don’t care.
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but you know what, kid?
i remember how it was.
and that is something.