it's ten-thirty am, and i've been sitting next to a pile of camera equipment on the platform at roosevelt, waiting for gary. everyone was supposed to get here at nine, an ambitious hour since we've all gotten lazy, but wriston & i were only a little bit late but an hour an a half! excess ( Read more... )

It’s two am when I stumble from the car up the drive to the door. It takes minutes of drunken fumbling to locate the key to the front door, which has untied itself from the strap on my wallet and gotten lost at the bottom of the bag ( Read more... )

in astoria on a thursday afternoon, the low buildings somehow further from the sky than the grass and low rolling hills i've become used to. across the river the buildings climb and clamour for the atomosphere like children playing king of the mountain on a pile of dirt. it was enough to make a mountain then; astoria would be enough for a city if i ( Read more... )

the end of summer ( Read more... )

*
driving around stratford i begin to notice a certain graffitti on boarded storefronts and bridges: large, a mural almost, proclaiming EXP NYC underneath a city skyline. the only member of the group to have been exiled to this quiet part of the world i feel it in my bones, that wriston and gary are in town and have not contacted me by calling on ( Read more... )

three days in the city ( Read more... )

"girl, you get the blues. and the only way you can get the blues is if you already got 'em."

movement one.smoked two cigarettes together ( Read more... )

.... just this feeling that i get alot.

driving into the dark, into oblivion or something like it, you have a cigarette in your hand and smoke filling your mouth all the way up to your ears. one hand on the wheel, drivin' one-handed makes you feel like you're cheating someone, all these one-handed turns on a mountain road where there's nothing between here and oblivion except the air you ( Read more... )