February 2012
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This Talking Is Only Bravado: There's an Aging... →
I’ve never felt more important than when I lived in New York. I was poor and my work was neither very good nor very well-read, and yet every day I’d wake up in my 10 by 10 room, its window looking out over my building’s rusted trashcans, and somehow think I’d achieved another great victory. I’d known since I was 7 that I would one day live in Brooklyn. That’s when I first heard and fell in love...
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