Walking up Bowery last night could have been one of dozens of nights last year, nights I wandered looking for angels that would glow against the night and hopefully see something glowing in me. I would go out hopeful and ready to meet the world and embrace it, after a while all the people and streets would blend together and the high point of the evening was if I could loose myself enough to not know where or how far the nearest subway stop was. Last night I just wanted to get home, get my boot off my feet. Something about wanting to not be noticed made me noticable apparntly, probably the boots.