Each time, sitting through the picture, I would find myself whipped with guilt.
I'd walk out in the middle of the picture and wander into another one.
I told myself I was looking for something in the make-believe screen world that was missing from my new life.
Then, in a sudden intuition, right outside the Keno Amusement Center, I knew it wasn't the movies I wanted, but the audiences.
I wanted to be with the people around me in the darkness.
The walls between people are thin here, and if I listen quietly, I hear what is going on. Greenwich Village is like that too.
Not just being closebecause I don't feel it in a crowded elevator or on the subway during the rush
but on a hot night when everyone is out walking, or sitting in the theater, there is a rustling,
and for a moment I brush against someone and sense the connection between the branch and trunk and the deep root.
At such moments my flesh is thin and tight, and the unbearable hunger to be part of it
drives me out to search in the dark corners and blind alleys of the night.
Usually, when I'm exhausted from walking, I go back to the apartment and drop off into a deep sleep,
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