After a trip that away that was sortof perfect in it’s own depressing way, I am back. I had a decent time, and re-realized why I liked all my friends, while simultaneously realizing that it wasn’t a place I could be right now. Recognizing that the past was great for the past and the present is great for the present. Also coming to terms with the fact that the hat trick will not come true and the future will not be great in any way.
I come back to NYC where I ride buses and subways and therefore write on receipts and scraps of paper I have around. Here’s some receipt writing that I found in Minnesota when someone called me out on my busting-out-of its-seems velcro-wallet (despite my complete lack of wealth) and I cleaned house.
Three fat asians, one with gucci knock off sunglasses, and a dirty undersized t-shirt with sweat stains, one with an FDNY bball cap and an ipod, and one with three huge dunes of fat – the first below his elastic of his pants, the second just above that, and the last his breasts. All where arguing about who found the free subway pass.
The smiling man with a ponytail and beard sipping his dunkin donuts mocha frappaccino who knows I’m writing about him as I keep looking up for details.
The kid who is dressed to look like he is coming from the office who keeps attempting to not fall asleep even though two people to his left and right are in dreamland by falling slightly forward dropping his iphone and jerking back up suddenly only to pick up his mini-Macintosh and do the process again.
When I demand attention I don’t want people to think “Man, my life sucks compared to him” not people to think “at least I’m not him.” PDA is bragging.