futurebird's Diaryland Diary
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times takes a cigarette
In the trains and on the phone booths and bus stop shelters there are these ads about how 9/11 might have made a bunch of people depressed and that those people should call this number. I think the one on my corner said �even heroes need to talk� They are a truly wonderful shade of blue. Kudos to the designer who made them. I hope they get a ton of calls. (this one was on the A train)
At the gym today I couldn�t help looking at the televisions they have lined up on the wall. I actually considered asking if they could turn one of the treadmills around so I wouldn�t have to stare at them. Today there was some show on about �freaky sex� or something like that. There is no sound, so it's actually rather hard to tell what is going on. But, they would interview these very animated people then show strangely little clips of what I guess was meant to be foreplay or something. There were titles in the show �goth sex� �male prostitution� It was very irritating. I can�t say that I have any real option on what people do at home in bed-- I guess it just bothered me that all this stuff was meant to be �freaky� or something. I don�t know maybe it seemed less ridiculous with the sound on... but I doubt it.
On my way home from the gym (a very pleasant half mile walk right through the heart of Harlem) I found myself itching to hear �rock and roll suicide� by Mr. David Bowie. So, as soon as I got home I found my tape player and was delighted to see that it was the last song I'd been listening to. So, I put it on and thought about how the song would always cheer me up when I was about 15 and convinced that no one on earth understood anything I was trying to say (let alone thinking)
(I love the city at night, I love the bits of paper in the street and the way the people who are out at night walk either slowly to intimidate-- or quickly from fear. There are sounds of people�s voices all the time out in the street. Laughter and people bullshitting with each other. I never want to live anyplace else. I just wanted to say something nice about my neighborhood...)
Right now I�m very excited about my run in the morning. I had a good one this morning, just a quick two miles around the park. The ground is swelling up with ridiculous daffodils all over the place. And, though I�m ashamed to admit it, I like flowers. I also I like the color pink. Pink is a very angry color, I think. I remember pointing this out to peter once and he seemed to agree-- but, I doubt for the same reasons I have.
I feel very ragged these days. But in a good way-- l am very weary, but somehow this makes me certain that I can make it to the next bit of this story I�m writing each day.
I�m up a bit too late now. It�s nearly one. I have a lot to do tomorrow. Time to go make some dreams and say hello to sleep.
020404_22.html - 2002-04-04
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