[[i feel endlessly dependent.]]
the fourth of july has always been a bit of a death wish.
and some kind of strange marker of time. last year i almost killed myself on a roof and another roof and a subway car and luke made me cry and i ran out and spent all night gasping through vomit on the floor of a shower. and the years (two or three?) before that i spent in some strange state with eva. and the year before that i sat on the tappan zee and watched the fireworks and three car crashes.
yesterday was a mishmosh.
finally beginning work (which entailed removing toilets, and hairdryers and phone ineptitude), metro-north calamity (which entailed my hatred for californians, and my hatred for power failure, and my hatred for people who run into me), listening to the wrong music at the wrong time (which entailed me accosting a man on the street with my rage and my voice and my hands), cirque du soleil (which entailed brilliance and randall's island), chinese food (which entailed china town, ed koch, more china town, and then some ice cream), my father running into a parked truck and knocking his side view mirror off (which entailed a lot of yelling on everyone's part and us doing a little hit and run style take-off), and me buying some yeast infection medication administering said yeast infection medication and falling hideously ill (which entailed me with a fever and convulsions all last night and terrible pain all day today).
today was russell j. and nikki karam. and riding down the road so perfectly watching the fireworks. and my papa being an endearing asshole. and movies (la strada; fellini owns and kills and is such a painful brilliance sometimes. and the straight story; which made me want to meet lynch who i never really liked before and made me want to kill bravo because their commercials are death). and karam bbq's and the twilight zone and music and everyone quiet and hugging on the bed. and i felt like shit the whole time. and i think it's because the 4th of july is my own fucking death wish.
tomorrow i will bandage my brain and body and take trains to beds and arms and music and more arms (i really need arms right now). and i'll give you a call because i miss you. also there is a show at north sixth tomorrow night (guignol and that sleepy time gorilla museum that we all don't like so much), it's 18+ though. so come if you're 18 or plus and you know... we can talk.
and some kind of strange marker of time. last year i almost killed myself on a roof and another roof and a subway car and luke made me cry and i ran out and spent all night gasping through vomit on the floor of a shower. and the years (two or three?) before that i spent in some strange state with eva. and the year before that i sat on the tappan zee and watched the fireworks and three car crashes.
yesterday was a mishmosh.
finally beginning work (which entailed removing toilets, and hairdryers and phone ineptitude), metro-north calamity (which entailed my hatred for californians, and my hatred for power failure, and my hatred for people who run into me), listening to the wrong music at the wrong time (which entailed me accosting a man on the street with my rage and my voice and my hands), cirque du soleil (which entailed brilliance and randall's island), chinese food (which entailed china town, ed koch, more china town, and then some ice cream), my father running into a parked truck and knocking his side view mirror off (which entailed a lot of yelling on everyone's part and us doing a little hit and run style take-off), and me buying some yeast infection medication administering said yeast infection medication and falling hideously ill (which entailed me with a fever and convulsions all last night and terrible pain all day today).
today was russell j. and nikki karam. and riding down the road so perfectly watching the fireworks. and my papa being an endearing asshole. and movies (la strada; fellini owns and kills and is such a painful brilliance sometimes. and the straight story; which made me want to meet lynch who i never really liked before and made me want to kill bravo because their commercials are death). and karam bbq's and the twilight zone and music and everyone quiet and hugging on the bed. and i felt like shit the whole time. and i think it's because the 4th of july is my own fucking death wish.
tomorrow i will bandage my brain and body and take trains to beds and arms and music and more arms (i really need arms right now). and i'll give you a call because i miss you. also there is a show at north sixth tomorrow night (guignol and that sleepy time gorilla museum that we all don't like so much), it's 18+ though. so come if you're 18 or plus and you know... we can talk.