It's strange to look back to when I first moved to New York City. I was rooming with a prior friend that eventually turned out to be a terrible situation, looking for some sort of connection with those I met in the city, and generally trying to make sense of the world. Now, it seems that the drive to do the latter has atrophied.

I've been looking back at some of the traces of those times through e-mail and other communications, and there was a core of people, mostly in their 40's, who knew what I was going through, and tried to help, since they'd been there before. I can only hope that one day I'll do the same. Even with the mistakes I've made in my life, I hope there will be a way to try to pass on what I've learned.