day 2

today i walked greenwich village
snapped shots of familiar dreams
'86'ed it
chumley's-style
sat where albee did.

famous titles.

i want to write the greatest song of all time.
i want to play all the instruments in the world.
i want to sing the catchiest refrain you've ever heard.

quarter to eight starts now.

for the robot. (x2)

i emailed you today.
it was your birthday.


i'm too much of a good person.

episode 2.

it's 9:30 am on a saturday.

i can't sleep and it's not because of love troubles or having to work...

it's because new generation sushi, the restaurant one door down below, is trying to kill us.

almost a year ago, to this day, we had a major fire at the 495.

the cause: unknown, but new generation was to blame.

this morning... episode two was on the verge of beginning, when i heard those familiar sirens beneath my head.
the cause: a pot on a fucking stove.

i grabbed my stuff like a pro, in order of importance because judging by the smoke, i had enough time. but you should never have to call yourself a fire expert.

you should never have to go through this twice, let alone once. it's somewhat traumatic.

way to make me feel safe in my home, new generation. i don't care how good your california rolls are, you'll be hearing from a few tenants who are VERY concerned with your intelligence.

fire=dangerous! fuck tard!

i will forever sleep with my emergency backpack by my side.

pity me.

he: "you have a beautiful smile."

me: (as i turn to show the wine he's about to sip) "thank you, sir."

he: "you must have a boyfriend..."

me: (laughing) "no, no."

(i sigh aside as 'at last' by Etta James begins to blare)

all around me
nostalgia filled the air.
behind the curtain were my dancing shoes and
i pretended you were there.

i closed my eyes,
swung a step with the rose-
and found myself dancing with a stranger.
he sensed my heart belonged to someone else
thought he was in danger.

he's right.
they're all right.
i'm stamped.

sailor to wind.

almost by sarah harmer.

"I almost dialed your number,
When I thought the coast was clear
cause it's looked up for so long at me,
And said call me please.

But the place was closing,
the countergirl turned the sign,
the cooks were getting their coats
and I got mine,
and said goodnight to the sea of empty seats.

And if I am a sailor,
then you are the warm gulf wind,
and you've blown into this little port
and roused my dreams again.

I see my mouth moving when I talk to you,
I do,
I see my lips and I feel like a kid
who can't keep something hid
Cause I've been under the paper you were writing on
you left your impression long after you'd gone
on me,
marks only I can see.

When we say sometime later,
you know that we don't say when,
You have blown into this little port
and roused my dreams again."

nobody move.

this is perfect.

cellphone's dead.

i fixed the remote today. all it needed was new batteries and some tape.
now i'm in front of the tv, a place that i normally don't visit too often.
but... beck is playing live at the rehearsal hall.

they're playing with items on a kitchen table.

just thought i'd make note of how awesome this moment is.
no one is home, volume is up, and i've got peppermint chocolate soy milk in my cup.

awesome.