Thursday, February 24, 2011

my first summer revisited

I have been scanning my blog and old journal entries this morning, simply to be reminded of the things that I may have forgotten. The following blog entry is one that I wrote my first summer in NYC. During the time I wrote this entry, I was living in Bushwick, Brooklyn with Jax and Patrick, I was working at the Starbucks on 35th & 5th with my beloved Frenchie, Sandra Doussin, and I was just starting to get my feet wet at in the community of Trinity Grace Church (formally known as Origins Church). My heart felt so much wonder and awe every time I laid eyes on the skyline as I rode the JMZ over the Williamsburg Bridge. Life back then seemed a lot less complicated then it does now - New York was so novel, just an adventure I could write about and tell my kids about one day. Now, I feel responsible for what goes on in the streets and in the government, as if this is has become my home.

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subway station chronicles : essex/delancey
Wednesday, July 16, 2008

the man who talked to himself sat in between me and the woman whose legs were frightfully unshaven. he was intently eating the last bit of meat off of the fried chicken bones i had thrown in the trash can only moments ago. each gnawed on bone he flicked into the air, leaving each piece to fall wherever it may. her sideways glance filled with disgust, she got up swiftly to move as far away from him as she could. the conviction in her movement was obvious! but when it seemed that she was undetected and clear from his reach, when all hope looked conquered and within her grasp, he spit the remnants of bone and chicken fat from his mouth and covered her from shoulder to waist with his saliva. oh the realities of a fallen world!

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Thursday, February 10, 2011

Liquid Poison

a diary entry from thanksgiving:

Nov. 28, 2010 9:08PM

What is this mess I feel trickling down from my mind, through my heart, to my fingertips. It leaves thinly painted trail marks on my arm; my hands shake. It is the weight, the sticky fluid dripping down each strand of hair into my eyes. The liquid poison is every lie binding sight and emotion and thought.

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