cute skater dudes + bomb soundtrack + turnstile-jumping + forties + BROADWAY JUNCTION (what up) + 1-800-COP-SHOT + shitting on the MTA in general = most excellent. i have been thinking about this video a lot because i've been utilizing broadway junction quite a bit lately. it saved my ass during the shuttle bus debacle (and most likely in future shuttle bus debacles), it can take you to the beach or the shittier parts of bushwick where your friends live, there is always a dude selling churros, AND you get to ride that huge badass escalator that makes you feel like it's taking you to heaven and hell at the same time. out of all the subway stations i've visited, broadway junction is always the most entertaining. it's a JUNCTION, which means that everybody is busy; if you are hungry you may buy yourself a stale, sugary treat; and there are stained glass windows to look at and to look out of while you space out as you go up or down those many stairs. it is far out and thus it seems dangerous, but then again there are people on their way to the beach so it must not be that bad. i like it there. i like it when i need to go there to get going.
left my phone off at work and didn't check a single social networking site all day. a girl asked me for the exhibition catalogue for talk to me, which is now at the MoMA. it made me think of how my phone was off and how i hate facebook right now. these things keep talking to me and i keep talking to them and they pass the word along, and though it's convenient and nice it can also be dreadful, as it is with everything i suppose. sometimes i feel like having a phone is like dragging a ball and chain. leave me alone, stop talking to me! only please, please talk to me. it hurts when you tell me nobody has called.
no L train and the same old shit. i'm angry and need to be sedated. tea won't do it and neither will beer. i'm overreacting, but it's terrible to feel this way, just like when i was young and trapped inside on a saturday night when all i wanted to do was go to the movies. i knew that if i just tried to move on and think about something else and read a book or work on some writing or artwork then i would forget all about it, but a lot of the time i would just lie on my bed and fume for hours. eventually i would pick up a magazine, and then some scissors, and then i would make little surrealist collages because it was fun and we were learning about surrealism in art class. i cut out pictures of girls and put them on top of waves, inside of flowers, and other places where you wouldn't ever think to look for girls.
last night i had some ambitious reading plans, and to be sure i had already accomplished a lot during the day. despite gulping down three cups of tea, i sunk down into my bed and my eyes began to feel heavy. i decided to put my book down and take a power nap even though it was almost one in the morning. i set the alarm for a half hour later, then another half hour later, and then i gave up and fell asleep. i had a really awful dream. i dreamt that my head and my foot were both injured at work and that they would never be quite right again. i woke up at the sound of andrea coming home, and instead of getting up to brush my teeth and change over my laundry i turned out the light and fell asleep again. it doesn't sound terrifying now, but at the time i was so upset that i couldn't bring myself to finish the things one is supposed to do before retiring. i had another bad dream after that. i was being pursued by the undead and decided to flee by horseback. i am assuming that this scenario arose due to the fact that i had been thinking about horseback riding earlier in the day. i was thinking about whether or not i'd still be able to remember how to saddle a horse after so many years of not riding. well, in my dream i didn't remember, and i was pulling out all of these leather straps that i didn't know what to do with. just before i woke up i think i was contemplating riding away at full speed without a saddle.
writing about dreams isn't interesting because nobody really cares to read about what anybody else dreams. self indulgence! oh well, it is labor day and i am feeling lazy. at least i am actually cooking something? egg salad: i hope i don't fuck it up.