I almost got headphones; but I couldn’t find any at Duane Reade. I need them to transcribe those notes from my recorder–I hate my own voice that much. I cannot risk anyone hearing it lest my reputation be stained, it would seem.
But I couldn’t find any. Plus it’s not like I have all that much money to be throwing around. Plus mommy’s coming up tomorrow with a bunch of my things and maybe even my headphones from back home. Maybe, if i’m lucky.
I did get a bunch of cheap little “scratch pads.” 1.59 for a 4-pack. Also a bunch of those cheap u-Bic-quitous pens–1.79. I hope to keep these pens and pads strewn about my room, coats, bags, life, so that in the moment of accidental, incidental, inspiration I can throw it down upon the cheap paper with the cheap pens and forget about it if I must.
Such happened on my subway ride back. It was just that cold and nasty; indeed I might have had a cock up my ass tonight if it weren’t. Damn you Jack Frost. Damn you and your kin.
- Stench of raw alcohol; sleeping homeless; 2 on my car
- 4AM ON A NY SUBWAY
- 1 stop to mine; 1 long stop away; like blocks, [stops are] indeterminate units
- now that one ain’t so bad; the one that just rolled over
- newly homeless, I bet
- …and me.
- [PAGE]
- too cold out there for those without gloves
- I wonder what it’s like for these drunken subway homeless then
- I wonder if Mr. Will Smith is cold, out there as he seems to be in W-Square
- Filming
- Or maybe just the techies–the hired geeks
- Dylan looks a bit like Depp in that poster
- This map’s not really accurate
- [PAGE]
- tho it says I can take the {NRQW} to Prince and walk some 8 blocks–tops, here; definitely indefinite, blocks; tops or sides
- Good to know; tho not too worth it. at all. Really.
- Some. Maybe. Cold.
- winded papers; shreds aflight but-
- [PAGE] -anchored
- Is”ugly betty” really all that ugly?
- Vendor pushing pre-dawn carts
- “This street is 6th so the next should be 7th and we’ll be all…good.” says petite lady leading stout man from 6th Ave.–>Sullivan
- little do they know; I remain quiet, smirking slightly at New York City
- [PAGE]
- “You better respect me” yells another to her confused man, then something about her hair–unintellible as her logic
- Smells like used coffee grounds; Earthy; like a grave
- gas station lites–24-7 safety–but just across the st
- but do they sell gloves?
- or coats or heaters?
- pile of boxes; “Foxy” says one in alluring letters
And, Door.
