Some streets are naturally silent. Streets that are made for quiet detours, the thrill of going over the speed marked on the lonely signs. Perfect for late night drives that could lure any baby to sleep. Where the stars guide you and the only light comes from the dim headlights. The strange peace you get when you drive miles without seeing another car. An immense feeling that this world is for you only. These streets are for the ones who sing too loud. The kids in the back playing games. The soft snore from the passengers resting. A street built on silence.

Then there's the city that never sleeps. The heart of art dreams keeping busy past hours of slumber. Where bright lights drift to dimmed hues as the cars fly by them. When 2 am pizza has never smelled so good after a night out. The streets still packed with people, doing their hustle, adventuring, partying, or ghosting the action. It's never silent. 

The surface isn't the only place that is always awake of all hours. 

There's the secret, but never really a secret at all. Where dreams are still on the fence and the hustle has never stayed so real. When the city didn't give in to opportunity, so you're forced to find a way. A way that stays underground, below the busy surface. Passersby might overlook the humming, tapping, and notes vibrating against the concrete as they rush to meet their commute.  

But they are there to give attention to those looking for raw talent. Talent that the lights never see. Overlooked by the human rush or the sounds of trains moving on their tracks. 

There's a show for everyone down there. Lots to see. You might catch some on your way to work or your way home from bar hopping. 

You'll take that music artist or dancer with a grain of salt. You'll watch or listen, clap when it gets good, and throw down a few dollars to show your respect that their hustle is the hardest. But you'll walk up the stairs or through the train doors, and forget what talent you just witnessed. 

Sometimes however, you see something beyond amazing. Something worth sharing. A gift that was given to your eyes. And when you walk away, you'll tell everyone that they need to see it for themselves. 

Sometimes, it's just a man standing, a hat upside down on the cold cement, and a beautiful brass instrument in his hands. You'll remember his song. You'll remember the smile that rewarded you when you pulled out a few bills. You'll remember the feeling wash over you as you head back to your life. 

The city's true glory.