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on to bigger subjects

yesterday i felt like i owed it to myself to give back to my cult. that kid marcus came over and started talking to me. he's like an over-grown 15 year old raver, with cement camo outfits, plastic glitter rings, and tribal tattoos. i just sat and listened to him go on about how he liked a girl but she was too young for him. and how he stays out all night on red bull, and when people do drugs he watches and wonders and he asked me if that was bad or wrong.

i was like no way, i totally do the same thing. when we were done talking he was like "thanks lesley", and i realized he meant it as a thanks for sitting here and listening, not like, 'thanks for the advice.'

and then on the walk home i ran into gavin and suroosh eating french fries with gravy. and then i saw the words TIBOR written in the cement. it wasn't the first time i've seen it and it wasn't the first time it made me smile either. right on 7th and 2nd.

i like the idea of this village being marked up with all our shit, like a huge scrapbook. like that one time i walked under the scaffolding and wrote the name of my band even though i dont have one.

and right on ludlow street in the sidewalk, after i made out with this punk dude john-john 3 years ago.

and all the cartoon spermzzzz, swimming down the bowery.

sometimes even in chelsea when you don't expect it. you pull when it says 'push'. you blush and feel stoops, but then you notice that it says IRAK and you're like "oh weird."

i like it. it feels like the world is working. i don't care what you say.

8:06 p.m. - 2005-03-14

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history - mystery