Everybody takes pictures of themselves, and it really makes sense: vanity is like strong morning coffee, like a compliment from a stranger, like secretive pleasure, good luck. In this particular photo of myself, however, I hope you notice I am not the subject, but only a fixture in my new room in Brooklyn, catty-corner from my Beatles' hologram and the two bikes standing below. From eight this morning until roughly five this afternoon I cleaned cleaned cleaned. Down on my knees, crud under my nails and in my hair, AFOS and Black Sabbath and Simon & Garfunkel whining through the two Bose speakers I have inherited because they are here, my roomate's, and for communal use.
All that's left are some old-timey photos that I'll affix to the walls (I cleaned those too) with sticky-tack. Some I stuck to the fridge with magnets. My favorite: 1977, Daytona Beach, Spring Break, my father at twenty-two and full-bearded and all smiley, looking out from a dollar Polaroid, behind fake, rubbery bars.
Now that I'm here, I fully recognize that it will take a while to acclimate, I mean I arrived on Saturday night at 10:30 PM and the first floor smelled like piss, and all of the ugly, idiotic graffiti (some is beautiful), and I thought to myself, why should I have to accept someone's garbage in the hallway as a part of city life? Maybe the black and rotted banana peels, but the half-eaten sloppy joe? The soiled diapers? Yes, the baby shit and the dog shit and the fast food wrappers. The smell of the trash itself is a dream when compared with the thought of people leaving it for others to vomit over, in the middle of the street or any number of sidewalks, in or out of trashbags.
there are so many runners dogs good bars vegan spots things going on. And my man is here, and yesterday I was an extra in a film, and vegan doughnuts too, right around the corner practically. Graduate school starts soon. I am heading to the Upper East Side with my resume in the hopes of landing a part-time gig. There's enough money in my checking account for next month's rent and groceries, and then some. Omar and Burrito love chasing and eating the flies in the apartment.