"God is in the details" said Ludwig Mies van der Rohe, and my recent insufficient amount of attention paid to details had invoked a great deal of wrath from the said god who punished me with sprees of weekend/late night work sessions.
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Every once in a while, a desire to relive New York City comes bursting out of my chest. You can almost call it a secret longing for drama, or a normally suppressed affinity to streets with higher-octave noise.
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When I was living in Chicago I was efficient; so efficient, in fact, that I barely have any memory of the place.
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