goodnight, you.

i don’t have blinds yet.

as a result, i find myself staring out the window a lot. i know it's only been three days, but each night i sit in silence for what seems like hours, and just gaze. and think.

the most amazingly fascinating thing about being on the fourteenth floor is that there is a lot to look at. windows, oh-so-many illuminated windows and stories behind them. i see tv’s flickering. oh, the knicks game is on in that one over there. and there’s a woman holding her cat a couple floors down. what are those twinkling lights on the rooftop over there? look at that decorative star blowing in the wind. wow, that room over there has great wall art. i wonder why that guy just went out on his balcony... he must be freezing!

all thoughts that pass through my consciousness. 

gazing off into the distance reminds me that our lives are different, and yet inherently the same. lives filled with conventional things like pets and tv and floor lamps.

something about this nightly routine is peaceful, calming even. high in the sky i watch. and observe. and take it all in.

my favorite part is actually the flight path i discovered. i’m not sure if it's jfk or la guardia or somewhere else, but every few minutes another plane soars by, on the same path as the one before it, preparing to land. i love the monotonous routine of it all. it feels right. and oh-so-very comforting.

we take off. we land. we wake up. we go to bed.

they say new york is the city that never sleeps, but slowly… slowly… the apartment lights start to turn off one by one.

time for bed.

let’s wake up tomorrow grateful for another day.