love love love.

LCD Soundsystem - Someone Great
Uploaded by epb21

the sunday night.

a cool, calm, collected kind of evening. one that is ready for anything. i'm trying to imitate that right now. though my inclination is to curl up and sigh, i shall overcome. and overexaggerate, as is only appropriate in a self-indulgent world of the internet. after all, there are so many hundreds of millions of bazillions of words floating through this world wide web, why should i feel guilty about adding my own stream of self-consciousness?

so blah blah blah jibber jabber jibber jabber. which is my intellectual way of saying, so there!

i feel like i'm always waiting. waiting for a phone call. waiting for friday. waiting for godot. alright, maybe i've never actually waited for a fictional character that's so fictional he's fictional to other fictional characters. but you get my point. i feel that i have a vast amount of patience, but dearie me, i am starting to get antsy. and not really about life, just in case you think i am about to launch into yet another ramble about changes, and life moving forward and getting my act together. i'm taking a break on that one, at least for a few days. no, right now i am impatient about something i like to call something something.

now, that's very vague, i realize. but i love to dance around things so. yes, i would much rather vaguely skirt the issue. notice that all words associated with avoidance are feminine? dance. skirt. put it delicately. i suppose we are known for our tendency to shuffle gracefully around elephants in rooms - and look pretty while doing it.

anyhow, i feel like i could be in it. fall. fall. falling.

then again, maybe it's just all this waiting has got me anticipating. more than i have in awhile. it is so hard to pinpoint. and yet here i go, trying to nail the ambiguity, when really i should just enjoy it while it lasts. because realization can sometimes lead to all the melodramatic stuff. like reality. and time.

i guess i'll just be satisfied with hitting rock autumn. warm my cold hands. and play it cool with my warm heart.

there is a man who lives in the house behind mine.

you would almost say we're neighbors. ok, maybe we are neighbors.

anyhow, this man plays the organ. yes, the big reverberating, tinkly kind. and every night, the evening breeze brings me a wafting jam session, glorious in its extreme, unabashed celebration of all things cornball. i'm not a huge fan of that type of music, perse, but his dedication to the cause of soundtracking each night, literally rocking around the block is somewhat admirable.

he is doing, rather than sitting around and dreaming of doing. he decided one day that damnit, he was going to be an organ loner, and no one could stop him. he said to himself (and perhaps to his family - if they had any say in the matter), "if i want to spend my monday nights doing wailing renditions of "sunglasses at night" by corey hart, well why shouldn't i?"

and truly, why shouldn't he? why shouldn't anyone do the things they want to do? unless, of course, they cause some sort of pain and suffering for others. surely anything as benign as plonking the keys of an awkward, antiquated instrument should be lauded?

i yip and yap on about this because it makes me remember that dreams, small or big are all quite surmountable. and though that is possibly some of the pappiest pap i have written in, well, days, i must hold fast to such sentiment. because i am a big fan of talking talking talking and then not really walking. or rocking. or shocking anyone with my resolve.

and so i must. i must. i must increase my just causes and my clear, determined goals, and my will to be willing.

it's time for a little free fall.

friday night delight.

here's a poem i read on my journey homewards - sitting on the plane, new yorker in hand i swooned. or did something kind of like an internal swoon - maybe my eyes teared up a bit or my heart fluttered. or something. point is, i freaking love love love this gorgeous piece of poetry. so much that it has gotten me back on the love train of thought. about writing. and publishing. and rhyming. and stealing.

here it is, in all its splendour, by james richardson.

"end of summer"

Just an uncommon lull in traffic
so you hear some guy in an apron, sleeves rolled up,
with his brusque sweep brusque sweep of the sidewalk,
and the slap shut of a too thin rental van,
and I told him no a gust has snatched from a conversation
and brought to you, loud.

It would be so different
if any of these were missing is the feeling
you always have on the first day of autumn,
no, the first day you think of autumn, when somehow

the sun singling our high windows,
a waiter settling a billow of white cloth
with glasses and silver, and the sparrows
shattering to nowhere are the Summer
waving that here is where it turns
and will no longer be walking with you,

traveller, who now leaves all of this behind,
carrying only what it has made of you.
Already the crowds seem darker and more hurried
and the slang grows stranger and stranger,
and you do not understand what you love,
yet here, rounding a corner in mild sunset,
is the world again, wide-eyed as a child
holding up a toy even you can fix.

How light your step
down the narrowing avenue to the cross streets,
October, small November, barely legible December.

back to life, back to reality.

i believe soul II soul once crooned that over early 90's tinny beats and blips. and it was a very accurate lyrical throwdown - especially when applied to the post-vacation drip of, well, the time post vacation. sitting here back at the office, and it's a comfortable return, but also one that is accomapnied by a certain hazy lackadaisical phase.

everyone is moving around the office with a shared sense of autumn determination. i suppose the fact that many are physically moving not just their bodies, but also their entire offices from one space to another has something to do with it. somewhat thankfully, i am staying put in my little office, which i have yet to leave in the 2 lovely years i've been here. which is a fairly incredible feat in a place that moves people around like a checkers game on speed.

anyhow, here i am sitting still after a week of go go go.

spent a few days wandering around williamsburg and beyond - eating at little under-bridge diners, sipping pints and feeling impossibly un-chic in a string of impossibly chic boutiques. trudged back and forth over the bridge a few times, gazing down at the murky skyline and wondering how a city can be so very big and full of possibility, then retreated to little nooks and cranny hideaways in hipster hoods. also played a good deal of Wii bowling and tennis, or as we liked to refer to it, "morning exercise".

next up was a long weekend holed up in a divey delight of a hotel at broome & bowery. exposed brick, hardwood, and an unexplained gilt mirror duct taped to the floor in the hallway - maybe so we could check out our legs every time we walked by. which we did. the days following were filled with giggling, gaggling and haggling. alright, i sacrificed truth there for a killer rhyme sequence - but we did do much laughing and shopping. and, of course, moving in a herd of randoms. i suppose it's appropriate that in a city made up of hundreds of thousands of assorted strangers and foreigners, we would roll through labor day weekend with a crew as motley as you can get (though not in a vince neil kind of way).

so good times were had by this ramshackle band of merrymakers - dancing on ludlow, bloody mary fused brunches, lovely italian dinners at hipster meccas, much graffiti tourism, culture soaking, a bar called sweet & vicious that was sweet but vicious in that it didn't serve any food at a crucial moment in nighttime hunger, bad late night mexican joints where beautiful guacamole was paired with movie theater nacho cheese, meeting up with new buddies at various dirty bars, many, many photo shoots, and of course, the defining moment: getting doused in pepsi by a cracked out chick in a park near chinatown, thus ruining the one blowout i have ever paid for without getting my hair cut. which was horrifying, yet absolutely one of the funnier moments of my life.

but on that note, what is it they say again? new york is a city of tradeoffs. and i must say, i agree.

it's dirty but beautiful.
it's cruel but kind.
it's lonely yet filled with people.

it makes me talkie in cliches and yet still cooler.

must shut up now.