“Mejor no vuelvas, porque mientras no volvés, podés mantener la ilusión de tener una patria”. for a minute i have to call into question everything i've ever held sacred and unique about the city of new york. that is, its gifts of publicity and privacy, which are bestowed freely and simultaneously from the same ever-flowing font, upon both its residents and those pilgrims who settle there in search of some greater or lesser grail. i admit finally that these phenomena are nothing unique or sacred to my otherwise sacred and unique city, but, again, part and parcel to living in any metropolis. new york city will remain sacred and unique to me in virtue of the fact that my mommy, my best friend who died, and my ex-girlfriend live/d there, among a myriad of other sacred
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