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And suddenly it was all so easy. Walking under the sun and moon, holding hands with strangers, dreaming of an ice cold jug of water, with ice, on a scorching summers day after which point it rains, a bathwater temperature downpour. No-one smiles but me. I don’t care that I am wet. Soon I will steam like the vents of the archaic central heating systems or air conditioners of this deranged city. I am a performance. I stand and I smoke, no, I cloud, I condense. I exhale a mist of warm moisture and then, I see you and everything falls apart. Why do you do that?
New York City, March 2005, Nikon D70