i see a darkness

"I prefer the pleasure of immediate self-gratification over the luxury of convenience. There is a fine line between the two."

Witching hour saunter

There is a happy round face that follows me wherever i walk in the new place i'm living in. the face follows slowly, but persistently. what does it tell me?


Differentiating past and present

I've been recognizing the present as it is. I try to walk backwards and forwards at the same time. I can detect the static things of the present, things that constantly remain. Drag race down the avenue, severed foot, black bags with ratfood, chimes hanging from fire-escapes, lost souls. The price of a beverage at the 24 hour spot has been increasing, accelerating without cessation. They still have 99¢ iced-teas in tallboy cans. When they disappear, i'll start looting.

The walk through the park is now a leisurely saunter from the polish bars to the hipster-infested "dives." I remember being afraid to walk through the corridor of london planes without a blade. I have pissed on the side-doors of the vocational school on the right too many times. It is dark at 3Am, but the darkness of the trek has dissipated. I could walk across the tar-courts on my hands and not have anything happen to me, wouldn't get mugged. And yet I feel a lack of charm in this safety. There exists an artificiality in the leisurely saunter through the park; I am falling in line with the class that's being pushed out. I need to conform to the proper financial bracket should I ever want to consider myself an independent here, for i do not have large parental subsidies. An independent: living away from the house I was raised in. Marketprices increase. I lose my money in half the time I would living up north. I would lose it in a quarter of the time if I wasn't careful.

The present passes blindly by blinded eyes. In this setting, my home, I crave the environment of the past, but with the knowledge of the present. I'd love to have known the people I now know back then. I would appreciate who they are now so much more.

Solitary scintillation

Cruising at 80 mph, to a sticky swelter. Low waters, bright moon, thick air. Spirits fly past and smear on glass. It costs $5 to wipe away that spirit veneer. yet, moving STRAIGHT AHEAD past the past. I can tell the crust inside nasal passages indicates I've traveled far. Driving alone, the pleasures thereof, insular insomnia. No frantic frenzy, just private predilection for first-person perspective along country lanes. I constantly rue the city craters damaging by underbelly. Urban life can be daunting, which is why I always have durable kicks for limber migration.

"Always keep moving. Never appear lost."

rural Hudson Highlands

A bit of a change from the discussion of squalid apartments.

The road leads back to the NJ/NY border, and goes right into Wawayanda State Park from the southeastern edge of NY state.

The end in a fortnight

In the midst of cleaning up one of the worst places I've ever seen...no, THE WORST place I've ever seen, I give Rob Salamida my two week notice. after the 23rd I will be done forever with the spiedie business. Hallelujah!

Speaking of that worse place ever, if I can get my hands on that video I made on Rob's digital camera, it would be worth it for the gross-out value. Then again, maybe the mere sight of my former living space, that is, the geek-sloth domain, is bad enough. Yes, the son of my adviser (name withheld) and his roommate's living space.


the living room...or the son's room

behind his roommate's bed

I won't post the pics with the anime posters since I refuse to have anime anywhere on this blog. The gross-out value of the second image does not even come close to the essence of horror I witnessed in the place I've cleaning-up the past two days. The place is a first floor apartment. The family was evicted and moved out two or three days prior to us going in and cleaning it up. (read: declaring war on the 2 1/2 level of hell) The smell was putrid. There was a constant buzzing sound due to the copious amount of flies. There were swarms in each room, young flies grown from maggots feeding off snake and bird shit (they kept a macau and a boa constrictor) as well as off grease and disgarded food, and the tons of dirty diapers. (these people had young children) The amazing thing is, there was no evidence of drug abuse other than alcoholism, though that is enough to derange people who are already probably mentally ill. I mean, minimum wage never felt so awful. Talk about being taken advantage of.

Inspired insomnia (prelude)

POPTONES has great observational imagery of a day-trip to the forest, a fantastic bassline, and minimalistic country-tinged guitar lines. That does it for me.

Drive to the forest in a japanese car
The smell of rubber on concrete tar
Hindsight done me no good
Standing naked in the back of the woods
The cassette played poptones

I can't forget the impression you made
You left a hole in the back of my head
I don't like hiding in this foliage and peat
It's wet and I'm losing my body heat
The cassette played poptones

This bleeding heart
Looking for bodies
Nearly injured my pride
Praise picnicking in the British countryside

Irony is a dead horse: post 101

Five days into living on Clinton St. and I can safely say I am so much happier. The move and adjustment to the new place has been smooth. New people, establishing connections with former "mere acquaintances," a better environment to work. A calm, albeit lackluster 4th o’ July. Jerked chicken off the grill means full, lethargic demeanor. Easily upset dykes find offense to strawberries and blueberries arranged in the shape of the confederate flag on a jello cake, yet unbeknownst to them it was done by a Filipino, so it’s alright. Disgruntled at the age of 20-something, that makes for good party company. That and smelly, lame indie kids.

Old air

I found this after going through the old bleeding heart of mine.

Lost Lake in south-eastern Finland

Sven tended to his garden.

life on a tomato stalk,
ruined by pesticides from the government.

Sir Sven knew his Kallavesi garden
a tumultuous affair.
Dead
cabbage for dead children.
Dead fish for the ravens
A feast of carrion.

Pouring life in a jug
I try to stay above the spoiled bottom.
I try to meet others who can help me,
not those who drag me down.
Try to help as many stay afloat as you can.
In the end, you'll help many of
your benefactors.
In the end, you'll grow to
marry one of them.

Now came the rain to wash out all the algae.
The fish, all dead, had lain their eggs
Shortly prior to the anoxia.
A small century, with much rain
Inifnite sun and patience.
A small century gave way to
Splendorous regalia.
Kallavesi had its place among countless
Immaculate and priceless.
In a small century, the garden had returned;
Bless those who had patience

-oct. 2005

Lincoln Ave. recap

A recap of an early morning Memorial Day walk through the cityline of Binghamton, Johnson City.





















after 24 hours of being awake, the calm of sitting in the rising sun on a cold morning is divine.