I thought sitting and writing on a stone seat outside the 1 train at 72nd st would be a grand idea, but it’s really burning my ass.

There’s nothing more satisfying than the death of a beloved pen.

I just bought a pandebono for 90 cents.  I forgot that there was a price increment under a dollar.

Today I changed trains earlier than I had to (and possibly went out of my way) so I could be above ground over the bridge because the sunrise makes me happy.

I don’t understand how the MTA plans service changes, but I’m leaning towards dartboard.