I traveled down to Atlantic City for the first time ever this week. Though I wasn’t impressed by the bright lights and casinos, which were more confusing to me than anything, I did manage to become attached to the grandiose city in the smallest way. It came in the form of colors, the most natural and purest form of colors I have ever laid eyes on. After a long day of driving, dancing to some great songs and a couple of drinks, a couple of my closest people and myself stumbled our way through Trump Taj Mahal only to exit the opposite side of the monstrosity to this gorgeous view of dawn. She was beautiful. She felt good. She was reassuring in a way that beauty and truth are still possible even amidst the saddening air of destruction, addiction and greed that filled my opinion of the lost city in a lost world.