do i look like a slut? is it the way i move my butt?
so i was walking home one day from visiting my friend jacob (this is before schooled started on tuesday). passing many rollerbladers, bikers, and especially runners on this pretty little path beside the river. i saw a beautiful shimmering bike sitting all by itself (looked stolen then dumped). i looked over the edge of the stone wall and took a leap. after clambering down the hill i found a fucking pile of discarded rusted and new bikes. some were gorgeous very expensive looking contraptions but the only usable one i found was a blue diamond back. i rode it home after lugging it up the hill and after $30 in repairs i'm fixed to this new form of transportation. i will be riding my bike in the winter along with a couple other hard-core bikers living next door to class every day of the week in the blistering cold. strangely i'm excited about this. to add to this i'm taking a dance class and am lifting my little weights slowly but surely again. i eat eggs every day and take pride in frequent culinary impulses. i also wash the dishes and clean the stove. what the fuck? but my room is still a disastrous mess and clearly the biggest pile in the house. i've read pages and pages and pages of art/philosophy over the last 3 days as supplementary reading from my sometimes excellent class. i am talking backwards when i wake up and losing my hearing and equilibrium. it only lasts minutes so i rather enjoy the lack on control. plans for more new work are in motion and circles are being constructed as we speak. tonight i rode out into the night with my bag and slick new pants and buttoned shirt. i stumbled apon a free concert at strangely enough a frank gehry building (a contemporary art museum). i went inside and watched people for 30 minutes and spoke with the singer afterward about how incredibly acceptable playing 50 cent following her performance was. these kids were looking at paintings around the corner and i stalked to hear what they were saying and then one turned confronting me asked what it was about and i jokingly spoke about the disenfranchisement of art then about how curator of the museum was just showing off big names and didn't care to say anything. i've approached numerous strangers quiet in coffee shops with the guise of wanted to learn about the city and leeching their company. before finding this ridiculous concert at the gehry building i was sitting with a stranger who told me about her debt and money problems. she used her entire eraser and the pencil was almost complete. her journal was almost in tatters from how hard she would press and erase. she told me she wanted to write song lyrics. i was interested but didn't press her so as not to put her on the spot with some of her words. german class was amazing and i could write a paragraph about it but who gives a fuck? mostly it was just the teacher who straight out of berlin sported a hawk and sat in the class as a student before somebody asked "where the fuck is the teacher?". he jumped up revealing himself "right here". my bungie was torn to shreds today. tomorrow when i pick up my produce i'll get a new one from the near by target with my roommate named "Kitty". Kitty is not her real name but she can't pronounce her real name. i'm sittin on my bed and i think i'll lay down now and continue to learn about how art and philosophy are not pursuing the same thing.