(no subject)
the bus ride across town is rather enlightening. the stagnant smell of sweat and cigarettes and booze that never washes clean. pregnant women with planned parenthood applications and their boyfriends (in california we call them cholos) with necks full of bruises and tattoos. mexicans with one day work permits and hipsters who would rather stare than offer their seats. this city is constantly disappointing me.
recently, ive heard it's better to roll out the red carpet than to walk across four lanes of traffic. of course im sure you count the wrinkles in your hand and have mastered the art of fire eating and dancing on tables that hold you up. yes. we're all tiptoeing across broken glass here.
besides, like i said the forty minute bus ride is short. it's been five years. they still haven't found the cure for brain aneurysms (or death) for that matter. but they have extended the emergency room hours. t.s. eliot was wrong, february is the cruelest month.
recently, ive heard it's better to roll out the red carpet than to walk across four lanes of traffic. of course im sure you count the wrinkles in your hand and have mastered the art of fire eating and dancing on tables that hold you up. yes. we're all tiptoeing across broken glass here.
besides, like i said the forty minute bus ride is short. it's been five years. they still haven't found the cure for brain aneurysms (or death) for that matter. but they have extended the emergency room hours. t.s. eliot was wrong, february is the cruelest month.