chinatown without the chinese, the DEAD WALK THE EARTH
went to washington heights to see pavel's entry in the microcinema festival.
Contrary to popular opinion, i was not assaulted, mugged, or any other nonsense. The 1 train was rerouted to another track, I waited for what seemed like a thousand years staring at the tracks, the garbage paper bags, french fries, newspapers, dead rats floating in murky black water. 'how often do they clean up the mess?' i wondered. I fantasized myself jumping down to the tracks (sometimes falling, by accident or otherwise, or being pushed) the oncoming train, the splatter, the mess. Would i make a crunch or a squish? would the wheels get gunked up or would i not make a difference to the subterranian juggernaut?
Then i realized I was on the wrong track.
washington heights. I thought of chinatown in the sense that i couldn't understand most people walking by me, the food vendors hawked unfamiliar (but succulently odored) food, and handbags are available.
Everyone enjoys carrot cake.
(earlier this morning, i saw the doctor. He shrunk my head. I screamed and whined. Loved every second.)
some minor events have been excluded here. no loss.(decided against drinking)
went home.
THE GHOST ROSE. TOOK FORM. REANIMATED. But still as dead as nails. (The only thing more upsetting than the actualized loss of a loved one is to see their corpse dancing the night away)
Regret (regarding decisions revolving around drinking).
saw stephanie yesterday. had coffee. it was good to see her. we gossiped and gabbed, bitched and moaned. One has to catch up.
Whodathunkit. Goddamn zombies. If only I knew yesterday what I'd discover today. I'd have more to gab about.
Spoke to Ashleigh on the phone. She's at port. Sounded tired. I asked her how it felt to be back at sea but I think she didn't hear me. I've taken to halfwhispering inqueries in the presence of others, afraid to interrupt an emerging thought for fear of sending it fleeing in the other direction.
Ah. diddums.
I need to stop eating out in Ktown. But. It was either that or drinking without food.
Contrary to popular opinion, i was not assaulted, mugged, or any other nonsense. The 1 train was rerouted to another track, I waited for what seemed like a thousand years staring at the tracks, the garbage paper bags, french fries, newspapers, dead rats floating in murky black water. 'how often do they clean up the mess?' i wondered. I fantasized myself jumping down to the tracks (sometimes falling, by accident or otherwise, or being pushed) the oncoming train, the splatter, the mess. Would i make a crunch or a squish? would the wheels get gunked up or would i not make a difference to the subterranian juggernaut?
Then i realized I was on the wrong track.
washington heights. I thought of chinatown in the sense that i couldn't understand most people walking by me, the food vendors hawked unfamiliar (but succulently odored) food, and handbags are available.
Everyone enjoys carrot cake.
(earlier this morning, i saw the doctor. He shrunk my head. I screamed and whined. Loved every second.)
some minor events have been excluded here. no loss.(decided against drinking)
went home.
THE GHOST ROSE. TOOK FORM. REANIMATED. But still as dead as nails. (The only thing more upsetting than the actualized loss of a loved one is to see their corpse dancing the night away)
Regret (regarding decisions revolving around drinking).
saw stephanie yesterday. had coffee. it was good to see her. we gossiped and gabbed, bitched and moaned. One has to catch up.
Whodathunkit. Goddamn zombies. If only I knew yesterday what I'd discover today. I'd have more to gab about.
Spoke to Ashleigh on the phone. She's at port. Sounded tired. I asked her how it felt to be back at sea but I think she didn't hear me. I've taken to halfwhispering inqueries in the presence of others, afraid to interrupt an emerging thought for fear of sending it fleeing in the other direction.
Ah. diddums.
I need to stop eating out in Ktown. But. It was either that or drinking without food.