42 Street
Port Authority Bus Terminal

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I decide to go for a walk, to clear my head and grab a bite to eat. Walking outside on a crisp December day. The sun is pleasantly beating down on me, making the cold disappear. I look up to the skies in awe of the sun overhead. Without it we would be nothing, it is our life, our light and warmth. They, the scientists, say that it is going to collapse in on itself one day, and explode, the very thing which gives us life destroying us. What is there to believe in? religion? science? When you really think about things, I mean really think, nothing makes sense. At least the message that Religion gives is an uplifting one. It is one that makes you feel okay and gives an answer, although an provable one, for the questions that no one is willing to ask once they realize that thinking about them only makes things worse. People claim that they feel god, that they are visited by angels, but I feel things too. I have these moments of purity where everything just seems okay. But they pass, and for those of you who believe in god, I'm sure your moments of clarity, your epiphanies come and go too. The beginnings and ends can never be explained. I haven't thought about things like this since I was a kid. My head begins to hurt. I turn all hot and red, like I've done something wrong, and dad had gotten the coat hanger out of the closet. My senses are an overload, too much to see and taste and smell and feel and hear all at once. The sky begins to darken, my eyes, and ears, my whole body, then blackness.

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