I gave up thinking about sex for lent so it comes as a failure that on merely the second day I could not stop eye fucking this girl on the C train. The C train doesn't stop at the 23rd street station so actually I ought to have followed her off the train at 34th and at least enjoyed the sight of her for another good 5 minutes. I probably would have said something even, were I not an incurable bum and waste of breath. But, we made eye contact, lovely eyes that she did have, so I do not consider it a total failure. As she stood up to exit I did notice her short black skirt over her purple tights as she ever so subtly and lightly held her hand to her ass in a meaningless gesture.
I gave up coffee for lent too and that didn't go well this morning. It's a good thing that handguns are illegal in New York as I venture to make it the 40 some days of lent without imbibing stimulants of any kind.
If I have dishonored myself and my family, I wonder who I could count on to quickly end my life after I disembowel myself?
New York City is little comfort and bitterly cold as I leave the city shelter in crown heights this morning. It has always been this way. Unkind. I still consider leaving. I see what I should have done, or what I was supposed to do and find myself incapable of doing it. I don't know where else I would go.
The word of the day is Acquisitive and New York is a shrine to this word. As I flounder to turn any capital whatsoever I consider the events that led me here and to this utter destitution.
All my stuff is in property lockup and is being held by the New York City department of corrections, and I mean ALL of my stuff, which is to say, that my backpack contained literally all of my own personal property and everything that I own in the world. So I have not changed clothes in too long. Slowly the things that are important to my survival while away, I have lost my passport for instance, I lost the pink slips of paper with the important numbers on them to have my belongings returned. So what can I do?
What I CAN do is commend the New York Times for their use of the phrase "Hipster Insouciance".
So I lift copies of the Times off the street as they are delivered to unfortunate people who have not yet collected them.
I remain, as ever, penniless, with not a shekel. I would get on public assistance but I know from experience that they would close my food stamps account and the only thing going for me is that I have a bounty of monopoly money on it.
I have been deliriously unlucky. New York is a confusing and hectic place, I struggle to find my place in it.
I gave up coffee for lent too and that didn't go well this morning. It's a good thing that handguns are illegal in New York as I venture to make it the 40 some days of lent without imbibing stimulants of any kind.
If I have dishonored myself and my family, I wonder who I could count on to quickly end my life after I disembowel myself?
New York City is little comfort and bitterly cold as I leave the city shelter in crown heights this morning. It has always been this way. Unkind. I still consider leaving. I see what I should have done, or what I was supposed to do and find myself incapable of doing it. I don't know where else I would go.
The word of the day is Acquisitive and New York is a shrine to this word. As I flounder to turn any capital whatsoever I consider the events that led me here and to this utter destitution.
All my stuff is in property lockup and is being held by the New York City department of corrections, and I mean ALL of my stuff, which is to say, that my backpack contained literally all of my own personal property and everything that I own in the world. So I have not changed clothes in too long. Slowly the things that are important to my survival while away, I have lost my passport for instance, I lost the pink slips of paper with the important numbers on them to have my belongings returned. So what can I do?
What I CAN do is commend the New York Times for their use of the phrase "Hipster Insouciance".
So I lift copies of the Times off the street as they are delivered to unfortunate people who have not yet collected them.
I remain, as ever, penniless, with not a shekel. I would get on public assistance but I know from experience that they would close my food stamps account and the only thing going for me is that I have a bounty of monopoly money on it.
I have been deliriously unlucky. New York is a confusing and hectic place, I struggle to find my place in it.