budddhist monks always confuse me

Polymathically

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/12/02/weekly-writing-challenge-snapshots/

It’s cold. Not freezing, but it’s getting there. If I return to this street a month from now, it probably will be. San Francisco’s Financial District never changes. Oh sure, the stores change. But the people don’t. It’s the same crowd shifting and flowing down Market Street’s dingy sidewalks. The overbearing smell of McDonald’s breakfasts wafting out a sliding door. A group of guys in jeans and dreadlocks selling rap CDs outside of Walgreens. A hundred people wait at the crosswalk. The pressure is immense; you can get crushed within this mass of flesh and fabric. Eyes on the signs and opportunities, friends and lovers and coworkers chatting. A businessman speaking Spanish into a cell phone, loudly. Two Japanese school kids, busily texting with heads downcast. Hands shoved into coat pockets, scarves hiding visible breaths. I can hear the drum players over by Kearny, their music surging forth on…

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