listening to the democratic debates and eating ice cream trying to reflect on this week/weak.
its gotten alot colder here, you can smell it in the air and feel it on your lovers face when they come in from outside or when you just stand close to the window. as well the past few days being cold thay have also been dark, wet and quite gloomy. it started on saturday when the wind picked up just after dark, early in the afternoon. it was too cold and the icy gusts too strong for me to bike over the bridge going home so i took the train. m came over in a car later that evening. we watched a mystery movie. i fell asleep and had strange dreams recounting the day and the movie in errie mix of death and friendships.
i had work early sunday morning. i woke up aching with pain and my eyes begging to be closed. it was lightly raining and despite dawn being over an hour before it was still quite dark outside. after work feeling weak and exhausted i came home to lie on the couch to read the times and hang out with m as he worked on his latest design. i disappeared into my room for a minute when m got a phone call. an old friend and his neighbor had died. we had seen him just before he left for a show at the knitting factory the night before. at that show he would overdose on H and be found hours later in the bathroom. m was speechless and motionless as was i, i was in disbelief, how could he be gone, i had just been with him only 20hours ago splitting up a bag of grass. he seemed nervous but overtly friendly to his and m's mutual friends whom were over drinking beers and reliving their old days.
last night was the memorial at c squat, a place i havent been for nearly 8 years. it hadnt changed much, everyone was still drunk or high and the walls unfinished and the bathrooms a place you just dont go. i only cried 3 times , it was understood although most did not show any sadness. it felt like a birthday party with the quest of honor missing.
N grew up in denver. he rode trains all over the country and traveled all over the world with a shitty but famous punk band. he was a sweetheart and a jackass. its really not right that hes gone.
we left the memorial early, people were getting too drunk and others were inappropriately high. a few hours later some wasted girl would fall down the stairs crushing her face. she was rushed to the hospital and will need reconstructive sugery.
it was strange going back to C squat, it made me realize how much my life has changed since i was a teenage punk, but how much its also the same. most of my old friends are still around doing alot of what we did 8 years ago, riding bikes and going to shows. i hadnt thought though there would be narcotics, od's, and dead friends so early on in my adult life though.
i turn 24 a week from today. 3 years ago i was living in bushwick with lenny, kristy and cathy; our apt was a small railroad in a delapidated brooklyn flatboard house. tony and joseph, some kids from denver were in town for a spell. stopping off in the city on their way down the coast.
i eventually went with them. its hard to see what my life would be like had i not gone on that trip down the coast and through the south. for one thing i would not have the chronic pain in my back from the drunk driver who hit me in pensacola. i would also not have some of my most vivid and fondest memories of my life.
N lived a full life. he died alone but his presence is still being felt and will live on.
Mikee BLC painted his bike white and Thoma put daisys in the handle bars. michael and i put flowers on his door with a framed photograph. his mom flew in from denver and left with a renewed pride in her son and his untraditional life choices. The community which n comes from in denver (the traveling kid/punk life) and that which he lived in here in nyc (the squats as well as traveling and punk life) is a kind hearted and tight knit community, but it is cursed, and that curse is drugs and alcohol.
we make our own choices but can all be blamed? i guess its about balance and excess. sometimes we need to be selfish and leave everything for a while but the important thing is knowing how to get back.
i had work early sunday morning. i woke up aching with pain and my eyes begging to be closed. it was lightly raining and despite dawn being over an hour before it was still quite dark outside. after work feeling weak and exhausted i came home to lie on the couch to read the times and hang out with m as he worked on his latest design. i disappeared into my room for a minute when m got a phone call. an old friend and his neighbor had died. we had seen him just before he left for a show at the knitting factory the night before. at that show he would overdose on H and be found hours later in the bathroom. m was speechless and motionless as was i, i was in disbelief, how could he be gone, i had just been with him only 20hours ago splitting up a bag of grass. he seemed nervous but overtly friendly to his and m's mutual friends whom were over drinking beers and reliving their old days.
last night was the memorial at c squat, a place i havent been for nearly 8 years. it hadnt changed much, everyone was still drunk or high and the walls unfinished and the bathrooms a place you just dont go. i only cried 3 times , it was understood although most did not show any sadness. it felt like a birthday party with the quest of honor missing.
N grew up in denver. he rode trains all over the country and traveled all over the world with a shitty but famous punk band. he was a sweetheart and a jackass. its really not right that hes gone.
we left the memorial early, people were getting too drunk and others were inappropriately high. a few hours later some wasted girl would fall down the stairs crushing her face. she was rushed to the hospital and will need reconstructive sugery.
it was strange going back to C squat, it made me realize how much my life has changed since i was a teenage punk, but how much its also the same. most of my old friends are still around doing alot of what we did 8 years ago, riding bikes and going to shows. i hadnt thought though there would be narcotics, od's, and dead friends so early on in my adult life though.
i turn 24 a week from today. 3 years ago i was living in bushwick with lenny, kristy and cathy; our apt was a small railroad in a delapidated brooklyn flatboard house. tony and joseph, some kids from denver were in town for a spell. stopping off in the city on their way down the coast.
i eventually went with them. its hard to see what my life would be like had i not gone on that trip down the coast and through the south. for one thing i would not have the chronic pain in my back from the drunk driver who hit me in pensacola. i would also not have some of my most vivid and fondest memories of my life.
N lived a full life. he died alone but his presence is still being felt and will live on.
Mikee BLC painted his bike white and Thoma put daisys in the handle bars. michael and i put flowers on his door with a framed photograph. his mom flew in from denver and left with a renewed pride in her son and his untraditional life choices. The community which n comes from in denver (the traveling kid/punk life) and that which he lived in here in nyc (the squats as well as traveling and punk life) is a kind hearted and tight knit community, but it is cursed, and that curse is drugs and alcohol.
we make our own choices but can all be blamed? i guess its about balance and excess. sometimes we need to be selfish and leave everything for a while but the important thing is knowing how to get back.