NOTHING is real.

Not a word anyone says. Nothing that you see or hear or feel… None of it is real. There are always layers and layers and layers of things you don’t see or know about till much later…. sometimes you NEVER find out. And that’s just how life is. Nothing is real.

In a city of 8 million people, solitude is a guarantee. I cried this morning from 9oth street… all the way to Times Square. Dabbing quietly with my little tissue under my superstar sunglasses wearing my “HUSTLER” tee shirt… I guess this morning I thought I was invincible. Not a soul approached me to ask me what was wrong. Am I saddened by that? No… it just really brings a reality home … that when you boil it all the way down you’re on your own with anything you deal with in life. People can offer you advice out the wazoo. They can even definitively work out a path for you to follow. But the bottom line is that it is between you and God what you decide and between you and God on how you’re going to cope.

And thus far in my travels… the best advice I’ve heard was:

“The more you cry, the less people care.”

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