Looking out the window into the 14th floor of the office building next door, they all look like mice running through a maze, a haze of cubicle life. Empty and void of all emotion, type, type, type, click, click, click. Meaningless motions and meaningless efforts. I think about the people on the Brooklyn Bridge right now, they’re living. They’re outside in the open air high above the river. Breathing in two boroughs, inhaling two lifestyles. They are in-between places, therefore in-betweeners, floating gracefully from one zone to another, not even realizing the significance. I’d rather be ignorant than meaningless.