.now turn on.

okay,
here it is
me being tired of being stoic
tired of pretending it's all okay
i'm so sick and tired of being sick and tired
to use an old saying.

i'm on this island.
will all sorts of ways of
coming
and going.
and millions of people.

i have no friends.
i have a job
(not even a job)
that has a great name
and i
essentially
fucking hate it.

i'm a shell at work.
i'm a shell when i get home.
i'm always tired
and i have nothing to say

but i'm tired of playing devil's advocate
in my own life.

there are a million things to do in this city.
but when you're miserable
and alone
you don't want to do a single one.
you want to curl up in bed and cry.
but then you'll feel bad about crying.
there i go again, playing both sides.

my friends don't call me.
god forbid they move beyond the computer screen.
and the ones that do, they don't want to hear this crap.

so many miserable people just want to give up and die.

i just want to live.

i've been alive 22 years and sometimes I feel like I haven't lived a single day of my life.

.it's up to me.

in this blog
subtitled: life vs. MTA

today

the MTA won.

.somehow i'm not impressed.

dear dan deacon:

go away

forever!

-me

.i know you've supported me for a long time.

Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad
is speaking at
Columbia
which people think is a mistake
he's allowed to.
should universities only have
speakers
who are liberal or butt buddies to Bush?

Columbia's Public Affairs dean
John Coatsworth
said he'd invite Hilter to
engage in
debate.

a debate is, oddly enough
you idiots
a count-counterpoint.
that means one person has one opinion
the other person has the opposite.
a debate is not an
agreement.

Hilter thought the slaughtering of Jews and gays and others
was
just okay in his book.
Ahmadinejad didn't think it happened.

I disagree with both.
I'd be open to a debate.

.and the pavements, they are a mess.

i went to central park
the gardens by 106th
and they're cute
and i was walking uphill
when, in a second,
it started to pour.

i stood under a tree.
with some runners
but who knew when it would end.
so kept walking
up the dirt mounds.

and getting some great photos.

and the rain let up.
and then it didn't - it started again.

so i stood there at the mount sinai
nursing building.
getting dry.
then i gave up.
and walked and walked in the rain
(no,
it was only 6 blocks)

and i was soaked.
but i got some great photos.

.a porno.

so there's this
guy
animal
thing
who lives across the street
and stands outside
and makes that
about-to-hock-a-loogie
noise every 30 minutes
and i have the windows
open
because it's
nice
outside.
dear guy, animal, thing: stop it.
if i hear it
one more time
i will vomit
and lean out the window
and it will land on you.
so,
for the sack of all
stop it.

.subway she is.

finally, comes me
complaining
about the price of things
in this city.
this island.
this capital of capital.

what's the point
of everything being so
expensive?

a six dollar coffee.
a fifteen dollar cocktail.

it's creating an island
of elitism.
a place only a
few
can play and scoff at everyone
else.

(and don't be naive enough to think it isn't happening in the bronx or brooklyn or queens - as for staten island...where is that again?)

isolated from the real world.
i've seen it.
in action.
the social circles.
unaware of the
poverty
and heartache
of other places.
not saying one should walk around
sad
and crying.
but just realizing there is more to life
than
parties
and socializing.
and climbing that proverbal ladder.

these page 6 people
these new york social diary people
drive these costs up.
they pay the six dollars for coffee.
they pay the fifteen for a cocktail.
so nothing changes.
the prices just go up.

when a studio apartment costs $2,400 a month.
there is something wrong.
there shouldn't just be a cap on these things
for people who can't afford it
but for those who need a reality check.

maybe we'll be lucky enough
to go back in time
and scream
"greed is good"
i can't wait for that new york to come back.

.fly down to mexico.

rant?
so, living in manhattan, i've seen a few famous people or at least people who think they're famous and really just know for something stupid like being on America's Next Top Model. big success...weeee.

anyways, earlier this week i was walking next to Famke Janssen and her boston terrior (which was soooooo cute and really much more interesting). i loved her in eulogy but i sorta felt awful because here i am, like worn and tired from a long day at work and a size 10 and she's walking next to me thin and beautiful and twice my age. and she's walking her dog! not fair famous beautiful people!
actors and actress should only look good on screen but be normal people when you see them in real life.
no, they're beautiful in real life too. not fair. some of us are normal and...yeah.

and last night i was at a party with Rosario Dawson (i know, me! come on!) and she's so fucking pretty it made me sick. no. no. no. don't be beautiful, be average. it's not fair.
damn them!

so stop being beautiful. because, it makes me look bad.
(if you didn't get the irony in that last sentence, you shouldn't be reading this)

.in my life.

i saw the
sadest
thing the other day
on the
yes
subway....
a young
thin
nervous-looking woman
got on.
she had bruises
all over her arms
like someone
grabbed
her.
and looked like she had been pushed around a bit in her life.
she was reading
a romance novel.
falling into it.
falling in love with it.
and i thought that was so
sad.

.change.

i'm also
admittedly
scared
of next tuesday.
i know
nothing
will happen.
but i'm still...
nervous would be the best word.

.got to be some more.

from my moleskin,
written the other day,
during the
switchboard problem:

"of all the things
in
the world, i
wish
i wasn't
stuck
on the
C train
under the east river."

for the 30 minutes,
under water.
on the day i was already
late
and took
the wrong
train,
because i was late.

.cares.

dear astoria,
beware.
you're next.
you thought they'd stop at brooklyn?
sincerely,
me.

ps: i'm told astoria is in a magical place called queens, but i've never heard of it.

.new york.

observational fact:
people take cabs
at night
not because
it's dangerous
or scary
but because with the
MTA service changes
you have no idea
how
to get home.

why do i have to go to
brooklyn if i'm going uptown?
it doesn't make
any
sense.

what train?
on what track?
huh?

.i'm not impressed.

also
i think
strand bookstore
is
USELESS

unknowledgable
L-liners
with nothing better to do
then say
look in this/that section
(wave hand and look bored)

come on new york
this
is your alternative to
B&N?!?!

.somehow.

it's odd
how
you can
travel and travel
miles and miles
without ever seeing the
sky



a while ago:
i was picking up a print
for work
uptown
and i sat there on the 6
across from a couple
my age
they were quiet in
coversation
the man/boy
teared up
and it was obvious
the woman/girl
had said
i don't love you anymore.

my heart broke
right there
on the 6 uptown.

.for a long time.

something i wrote
a while ago
in my moleskin:

"one of the oddest sights i've ever seen is the 7 train coming slowly down the f track carrying the old graffitted cars down the track with cars of trahs cans with wta workers inside the old cars asleep after a long day and it was only 11:30, but it seemed so much later and it seemed so empty and it seemed so lonely. even though it was not. even though i was surrounded by people and students having a much better time that i much better than realizing the ??? in the old subway car travelling down the wrong track with people aslepe and trash inside. i do nothing."

the oddest part
was how beautiful it seemed.

.you've supported me.

finally
something to give
people
something to talk about
the weather
the flooding
the delays
the traffic
the subways
(or lack there of)
the walks
the heat
finally
i love talking about
the weather
interesting.
so interesting, eh?

so people,
stop talking about the weather.
stop throwing your
trash
in the tracks.
it clogs the drains
and floods the tracks
or it catches on fireand delays the train.
you fucking
pigs.

don't you
know
we can't get anywhere
on time
without
the subway.

something i always
knew.

i left early.
my commute takes me
to and from the only parts of
the island
that had running trains

i had time to
sit
and eat breakfast.

sorry?

.i know.

today was such a
new york
day.

it was hot
but not
sticky.

i had to go to cartier
for work
yes
had
to go.

on madison avenue
(not the fifth avenue one)
so i walked down
madison avenue
and looked in all the stores

no matter what my
morals are
jimmy choos are
pretty
so what?
i'm smart
and
i like
shoes.
shoes are awesome.
and pain you.

anyways
on madison
a guy
in an italian suit
on his bluetooth
walkin against the light
got hit by a car
screech
slam
he fell down
and then
got up
and
walked away.
we were shaken.
he
was not.

then i was walking back
to work.
and kids had broken open
a fire hydrant.
and were dancing
in the water.

then i walked
through
a movie set.
and there were trailors
everywhere
and people
everywhere
and i just wanted to get to work.

then i went home.
hi inky.

.they are a mess.

I long for
this
city
that I live in.

.and the pavements.

i can't concentrate
on
anything.

i've just been watching
south park
and
fucking around on
facebook.

at the end of the
day
i'm just so tired
and want my
mind
to go
blank.

i don't want to watch movies
(and i
always
want to watch movies)
or read
(although i
devoured deathly hollows in a
weekend.
there are rows
and rows
of people reading it on the subway
young
old
everyone, i recognize
that grey and yellow cover and jacket
so easily
stupid muggles who don't understand)

but i feel like shit.
like a blob.
and last week
was so great
and i keep thinking about it
instead of trying to be it
instead of living,
i'm replaying.

how frustrating.
stupid subway.