I was looking out at the streetlights from my apartment tonight, watching the taxis crawl down 5th Avenue like little yellow beetles and thinking about how much I pay for this view just to feel like I’m part of something, but the truth is I’m still back in that dusty hallway in 1965... it’s 2am and the radiator is hissing and I can almost smell the floor wax and the sour scent of the locker room which was ALWAYS the worst part of the day... listening to the other boys describe their conquests or their hopes with such a specific, crude enthusiasm while I felt a total lack of libidinal alignment...