February 10th, 2002


Now that you ask...

New York is just another place to be an outsider.
New York is full of hatred, and a strange siren song
that even now urges me 'forgive - this is New York.'
The driver gave us flags, and "a new word to take home: Sand Nigger".
New York is like breathing, like being male:
the unexamined default unmarked case,
narcissistic, unaware, uncaring,
enculturated as the Source; why look beyond?
Utter disinterest reigns in any other place
or mode of being. Why look into the umbra
from the center of the spotlight? Only
dwellers in darkness
require a name for light.


Don't talk to me about ducks. It's not meant to be a poem, it merely happens to look like one.
  • Current Mood
    gloomy gloomy

Random notes...

Arwen finally found the Mahim-Oak Curio! Yes, I am a gamer-geek, why do you ask?

In all the trip, my luggage didn't get searched, but as I was going into JFK to come home, my shoes got sniffed. I was sure, as he ran his little chemical patch in and around my red Converse high-tops, that it was merely a prelude to having me open my bags for the same treatment, but no. My theory is that my feet looked too small to be real, and therefore might have been false feet stuffed with explosives. But once the shoes had gotten a clean bill of health, I put them on and was on my way.

Xiombarg is doing her best to weld herself to my lap. I'm so inconsiderate - I keep wanting to use my arms and hands!
  • Current Mood
    ditzy ditzy