Sometimes I smell cigarettes through my bedroom window.

And hear gang calls on my walk to the train.

Sometimes I pay for my groceries in Spanish and stumble over Italian for lunch.

Sometimes I watch helicopters fly and airplanes land.

And get rained on and return home with a layer of the city to wash down the drain.

Sometimes I hear my neighbor’s music and smell their food and listen to their loud calls for ‘Mother!”

And I hear 300 curse words between my school and my home.

Sometimes I spend the whole day in my apartment, aware of the whole world right out there, yet stuck with a text book for hours.

Sometimes I run for trains and pay for laundry.

And sometimes I hike stairs like I’m preparing for the Himalayas and pack lunches like turkey and cheese are the new ramin.

Sometimes I read books and write blogs and knits scarves and print power points.

And stumble upon street fairs and historical monuments.

And sometimes.

Sometimes I think- I live in the ghetto!

Just a picture from our window.  This is my ‘hood.’


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