Lepent

I don’t trust anything true to reveal itself in anything short of an instant, or define itself in less than a lifetime.

Moments assert themselves, and they file themselves as they fall. I like to wait for the important details to be winnowed out by time.

I'm born and raised in NYC, and my entire life is informed by these little city moments that, if used in a movie, would be thought unrealistic or contrived. Sometimes they scream for my attention, and other times the just barely brush my radar. These times are part of why I doubt I could ever leave here.

A few years back, a well-dressed Korean evangelist roamed Times Square. Bullhorn in hand, he presented an exaggerated unfamiliararity with the english pronunciation of the letter “R”.

This assured his imprecations to “Lepent” would fall in the forest.

I loved this guy. I thought he was kinda nutty, but I dug what I thought he had - my limited scope called it "resolve."

I was jealous of his faith - how cool he was, in his rumpled black suit. He gets to shout at the top of his lungs, on the most crowded streetcorner in the world; nobody even seems to register that he's there, and it doesn't seem to matter to him one bit.

This appeals to me.

Lepent!