(no subject)

[something_urban]

a moment for the serious, for the bad. its hard being an american here. the first night, a man, who haunts us now on the trains, our devil, we asked him for directions home and upon discovering we were american simply repeated, i feel sorry for you, i feel sorry for your ways. sorry for you, sorry for your ways. yesterday a group of boys elbowed lexi and i, laughed, and swore at us with every american profanity they knew. suck my dick, bitch, faggot, fuck me. over and over again. at the italian minipiyya stand by the language school, images of bush appeared on the tv, the protests, everyone booed and looked at us uncomfortably. these things stick but they are nessesary. yesterday a turkish man at the kabob shop by film class laughed at us, thought we were tourists, today we returned, he rememered what i ordered, gave us free tea, asked us about our time in berlin, slowly taught us all the words for the makings of a falaffel. a hippie woman who called us selfish capitalists trying to take over the world, i gave her a cigarette, we talked about art, she asked for my card so that next time she was in the states we could meet. its these moments that make the other ones okay. and, as nate said, its not like were not safe. we can walk around as a huge group, laugh in english, wear gap tshirts, and be safe, which is more than a lot of people have. and for this i am grateful. but, there is, i am sorry for you, i am sorry for your ways.

yesterday, durer originals in the state art library. pencil marks inches away from me, i could touch them, in theory. i swear i had shivers down my spine the entire time. i understand the aura. lastnight drinks with a film professor at nyu, inspiring and charasmatic and just what i needed. the same table i had sat at three weeks before when i met everyone on the program. so much has changed. in a way, new york was harder, in a way, ive clearly grown