All For More (Or Less)

There are memories I have. I swear. I was young once. Wild too, and I was crazy in the best ways possible. I was eager and afraid. And I remember. I remember the ideas and the thoughts and the cravings which came over me like a wave as it falls across the shore. I remember some of my drives, long ago. I remember driving over the 59 th Street Bridge. The Big City. And there she was. New York, New York. She is bright like a dream and complete with every urge or desire. She is complete with every idea or every kink or fetish. And hey, don’t judge. Or don’t knock it, until you try it. You never know. I remember driving over the bridge at night, alone, and about to head into the city. I was young. I swear I was. Or maybe this is only a memory. Or maybe my memories are all liars and none of this happened. Maybe this happened to someone else. Or maybe I misremember too often. Maybe this more like a story I saw or something I heard and somehow, I assumed myself as the main character —but then again, if I was the author or if the script were up to me, then I suppose I’d have been the hero more times than I was the villain. I’d have been the love interest instead of the odd man out. And if I were the author, I’m sure that I’d have been more beautiful than I am in the flesh. At minimum, I know that I’d have been the hero. Or then again, maybe there are times when the villain is the hero and the right to stand up or the need to rise and rebel is enough to ignite the fire within. Maybe we all need to be the villain every once in a while. Maybe the saying is true, Being bad feels pretty good. (you know?) There are things and times and moments to which I have felt and lived to see. And some of these thing are like one and only sunsets or sunrises that could never be matched or duplicated. Some of my best memories are wasted; however, because life revealed itself and the lies came to light, in which case, the impurities showed that truth was absent. And therefore, so was the glimmer. I have risen from ashes more than once. And no one can take these from me. I have victories than no one can tarnish However, age seems to let these things fall behind and grow more distant than years that have gone by. Ah, my city. You have never abandoned me. You never rejected me. You have seen me since my days of confusion. You have been with me when I felt brave enough to explore. And you have shown me things to let me know that no matter how dead things may appear; something about me is really alive. My city – You’ve...

Preview: ~500 words