was crying by
the time they
rolled the trailers
strong on a
the room we
“I can’t believe
how their idle
not lead them
to suicide. they
deserve some credit”
walks in Rock Creek Park
a temple effect
sun all over my face. don’t walk around without shoes all over a dirty city. hammer to bash self into pieces while alone. ignorance. om mani padme hum.
can’t make enough money to live here. splotched hands. bad reaction to something. sun on the steering wheel.
latch, attach, latch onto. new desire is hatched. likes and dislikes. this awkwardness of not being with people. feeling like the village idiot. I’m sitting here wondering if I should be wearing a different mask. disconnected. who is this guy? busses flash by. I should adventure outdoors to keep awake because I’m yawning, or adventure down the page, just one more, one more. we’re all threatened by different things. most of it amounts to very little, in truth.
she is ready for hardcore shopping. shop and drop. don’t stop. shopping stamina.
spend entire lifetime trying to be yourself or someone else. many armor themselves from others. I’m looking for that open door that seems to be closed.
but when you’re alone you can write!!!
was this man annoyed by the two attractive girls who were slow to understand what he was saying to them? they threw their “charm” around and made everything better. typicals. she said she was willing to provide the eye candy. he drove from Maryland to get a pack of Now or Laters.
to hate itself
MHH (my hip hurts)
move in, move out. strangers on a train. journals on a train. this just feels assigned on here. I’d like to tell you that the sun is strong today and there are so many people all about. I’ve forgotten what it’s like here. my early arrival has me sitting on the ground outside the theatre. a friend has lost himself to depression and I no longer hear from him. I should nevertheless continue sending him letters.
not “hope you survive” but “hope you live a full life.” ink advice. ink talk is easier. bridge to outside world. me mean meander me and her heralder newspaper boy singing outside edges rooting for teams a mold a people. I was born to write in DC on a train on the edge of thin sanity.
sit down, abide your time in the written word. whatever can be in it. I’m sitting at this bench behind McDonalds in Silver Spring. my pen is sauntering. the smell of chicken wafts in the breeze. I can see that people themselves are being handled, not cared for. as I make it to this next page, I’m trying to explain it better. you’re sometimes born into the middle of some serious struggle like a lung struggles to make it to its next inhalation and exhalation. what you get easily in life is usually not the real thing. harsh realities, cruelties, gun fire, theft, are rampant. a guy wants to carry his food and coffee without being kicked face down onto the sidewalk, or something even worse. a couple walk home together. man crosses the street looking down pressing numbers into his cell phone. two people walk on the white paint. bus driver continues from where he left off yesterday. Ride On/Metro. I would swim at the Holly Hall apartments with my dad. my swimming remains probably more than half of what it should be. I try at times to get into someone else’s business. others try to get in mine. so often they talk down condescendingly, but I don’t look up to them like they’re standing on something higher or in the sense that they have achieved something monumentally worthy! this means there is a clash of “who-are-yous?” who are you? who are you? no, I asked you first. I mean, who are you really? I mean, I thought you said . . .
15 years ago we were in that building across the street, a pharmacy where Derek got caught steeling something like a piece of candy, or double A batteries for his Walkman. that building is hallowed out now and being destroyed. something bigger and better to replace it. “gangs” walking by. one kid has a yo-yo to swing around and cap people’s teeth out.
Stage Fright was a great movie. in the lobby I was nervous and said, “Hi, can you sign this to Glenn?” she did this silently, taking some extra time to write out her last name, “Hitchcock.” as she wrote this, I added in, “thank you so much.” getting an autograph from someone in general is just an awkward thing. I could have said things like, I drove 4 hours, I really admire you, I’m reading your beginning chapters . . . but none of that is easy.