#e.t.m

The street is populated by a small scattering of vagrants. Screaming, talking, or just standing there, perhaps thinking. Its dank. Its cold. Its wet; puddles biuld up in the potholes. Its loud; trains honk, thud, and whistle.

There is nothing intersting save getting high and being social. Social isnt always good in this environment.

The word free isnt real. No one here has freedom.

And yet they are more free then many.

As dank, as cold, wet, boaring, and strange as it is, there is a sence of self reliance thats is understood. It brings a form of freedom.

Learn it.