(no subject)
I have tried to write this entry 100 different times, on 100 different scraps of paper.
I have been living in a squat in West Philly with Trey and one other person. We are poor. I have spent many days sitting and staring at the wall, trying to remember a time that I did not feel so tired. Other days I try to trick myself into feeling passionate about something, but I can't forget that most of my former passion was largely driven by ego and a desperate need for recognition.
Philly can be a mean town and people often threaten me. For every friendly person there are 2 people who throw bottles. "I'll slit your fucking throat." Yeah, yeah, buddy... get in line. In one sense it is fair enough; we are invaders here- 2 skinny white kids with a dog and this is not our town. Of course, it is cruel, how some people treat me- people can be very cruel.
I keep thinking circular thoughts that don't amount to anything- thoughts of college, or apprenticeship. I consider going back to school or learning a trade. I think I would like to acquire a skill, make money doing something simple, like woodworking or stained glass. I would like to buy a house someday, live somewhere quiet.
It is very noisy here.
Tonight or tomorrow my friend Danielle is coming back into town and we are supposed to ride a train up north. A vacation of sorts. Trey and I are moving south soon- I have planned to stop in New York and say goodbye to my parents. It will probably be a while before I see them again. I am looking forward to hot water.
It's a nice time of day; the sunlight gives a yellow cast to the buildings outside- the network of wires and clumps of garbage look almost pretty. Its important to appreciate moments like this, to remember what it means to just sit and breathe.
I have been living in a squat in West Philly with Trey and one other person. We are poor. I have spent many days sitting and staring at the wall, trying to remember a time that I did not feel so tired. Other days I try to trick myself into feeling passionate about something, but I can't forget that most of my former passion was largely driven by ego and a desperate need for recognition.
Philly can be a mean town and people often threaten me. For every friendly person there are 2 people who throw bottles. "I'll slit your fucking throat." Yeah, yeah, buddy... get in line. In one sense it is fair enough; we are invaders here- 2 skinny white kids with a dog and this is not our town. Of course, it is cruel, how some people treat me- people can be very cruel.
I keep thinking circular thoughts that don't amount to anything- thoughts of college, or apprenticeship. I consider going back to school or learning a trade. I think I would like to acquire a skill, make money doing something simple, like woodworking or stained glass. I would like to buy a house someday, live somewhere quiet.
It is very noisy here.
Tonight or tomorrow my friend Danielle is coming back into town and we are supposed to ride a train up north. A vacation of sorts. Trey and I are moving south soon- I have planned to stop in New York and say goodbye to my parents. It will probably be a while before I see them again. I am looking forward to hot water.
It's a nice time of day; the sunlight gives a yellow cast to the buildings outside- the network of wires and clumps of garbage look almost pretty. Its important to appreciate moments like this, to remember what it means to just sit and breathe.