in a dark place

i'm running away.

away.

apt hunting - craigslist crib

?# 1. stop advertising affordable apartments in west and east village. there are still some of us who hope without your help for the diamond in the rough or the other way round. mostly the diamond in the diamond for the rough.

#2. please, not all you people are volunteers in west africa, or pastors of a lost flock, or saving the world org, etc kind of people?*  if all of you were actually where you said you were, new york city would be a much cheaper place to live in. and the rest of the world wouldn't go hungry or whatever. Also i wouldn't have to hear hell fire and brimstone and jesus in summer outside my window or on the subway. **

#3. oh, and if you were volunteers, you wouldn't be 'owning' an apartment in NYC in the first place. (On second thoughts, considering how much money you steal / get from the government, church and stupid people, it is possible; but seriously, are you not christian enough to show the apartment before renting it out??).

#4. Everybody 'cherishes' their apartment. And would love someone else to do the cleaning. Hire a maid for god's sake. The third world got that right for centuries till now, why can't you?? just ask for a fuckin maid.

#4. where the hell do you cyber people get time to post ads and pictures doin this shit?

#5. do you get paid for this?

#6. if yes to #5, can i also contribute at 15 bucks an hour? I can take pictures too. AND i  can spell. (for the purpose of this post, all sentences begin in lower case. i am aware, not illiterate).

#7. if these people of existing scams don't exist - oh no. my nightmares are true. we are being taken over by some unknown force who can't spell and mass mails with minor changes.

* maybe. maybe not. should i list the countries not part of west africa?? ethiopia, sudan are not west africa for anyone's sakes... why west africa????


** strange, but all evangelical types come out of the woodwork in summer. wonder wot the hell these guys/gals do in winter...  (so i have a problem with the street preachers. sue me o free country. My ears have rights even if my passport doesn't provide legal counsel. And the free ear plugs don't work.)

Slipping into the Night

Some people make it through, come out in one piece waiting for the sunrise. These are the people who are lucky enough to be able to sleep through the darkness and awake dreamless, but rested. Or just catatonic.

Then there are the others. The ones who picture hope as being chained to pillars that they tear down in a rage just when the party is at its height. Hope seen like an 'H'. Samson got it right -  being bound is a way to feel alive, to go through life breaking chains and jawbones, just cuz you can do it, never mind the casualties.

These are the night people, the restless people, the ones who walk with their shadows for protection and yet wonder why the shadows move differently from them. Their shadow runs all the way to the roof to jump and gets distracted by the skies, while they curl in a corner. The shadow watches their every move at every bar and follows them with whatever they take home. The shadow sees, the shadow knows; it remembers every meaningless conversation, every blackout; yet lets them slip through the night, to stumble through subways, parks and alleys... And over time, the shadow becomes substance.

Still, there is a code for these shadow walkers, you can't call them rules, it's something you make up as you go along. Or learn the hard way.

1. When in company, smile a lot, talk some. This helps in getting drinks on the house. When alone, wallow and drink some more.
2. Wear comfortable shoes. It's hard enough to stand, let alone walk when you're being more than one person at a time. Also, since you're following #1.
3. Keep track of the lies of the evening. Forget them once you're certain you'll never go back to the place where you've been before.
4. Deflect personal questions. Or remove yourself from the inquisitor.
5. Never allow someone else's shadow in. It could swallow your own, and you wouldn't be able to tell 'em apart after prolonged exposure.
6. Keep the radio on / always carry your iPod.
7. Never hold on to anything for dear life. Nothing holds you back. Not even the teddy bear.

When you slip into the night, try to slide. Climb back up and fall again. Don't bother to hide the wounds.

How the previous post looks like in my head

Who would've 

thought

it'd be

so difficult  to

traverse these

paths on your

fretted back with

just the right touch?

--------------------

There are more

ways than one
-------------------

  to   tease   you,

  p l e a s e  you,
-------------------

I  know that.  I

know. I  know

--------------------

But I'm   wooed

by the il-legit-im

-acy of darkened
---------------------

corners,    by an

elusive     sound

d r o w n i n g in

the rising smoke.

-----------------------

This is the time

To   keep   time

within  swaying

 doors,   but all I

 can  do is derive
-------------------------

 my    own mean

-ing     in    your 

sustained  glance

--------------------------

I imagine my flight

I   feel   your   fight  

to hear my c| a| g| e| d

silence within the slow

measures of your sigh.

-------------------------------

These pages have circles

and mirrors inside and out, an urgent

rising, an     infinite     reflection with no rest

till we find a          r   e   s   o   l   u   t   i   o   n.

But this is a key in love and death in lust and life

And changing where I place my scars

Just prolongs the agony in empty spaces
left behind.

I     can't

return anymore,

I    can't     return

to     the     first

m o v e m e n t, 

tothemoment

we set this unbearable pitch.
This time and place can not be transposed,
to less-bled pathways to an unshaking ground, and if we try we will only
slip, be trapped, get entangled in this  scale and  slide fevered
 into a whirlpool of shared dissonance till we arrive clutching,

gasping at the right clef, for air. Who  would've thought
you thought I was the violent one dragging you to hell,
when the sheet music the dark music the raging music
in  my  head was  a blind reading

of your hands on me?

Desire in the key of F#maj - a complex meter

Who would've thought it'd be so difficult 

to traverse these paths 

on your fretted back

with just the right touch?

There are more ways than one 

to tease you, please you,

I know that. I know. 

I know.

But I'm wooed by the illegitimacy

of darkened corners, 

by an elusive sound

drowning in the rising smoke.

This is the time

To keep time within swaying doors, 

but all I can do

is derive my own meaning 

in your sustained glance.

I imagine my flight

I feel your fight

To hear my caged silence

Within the slow measures

Of your sigh.

These pages have circles and mirrors

Inside and out, 

an urgent rising, an infinite reflection

with no rest till we find a resolution.

But this is a key 

in love and death

in lust and life

And changing where I place my scars

Just prolongs the agony
in empty spaces left behind.

I can't return anymore,I can't
return 

to the first movement, to the moment

we set this unbearable pitch. 

This time and place can not 

be transposed, to less-bled pathways

to an unshaking ground,
and if we try

we will only slip, be trapped, 

get entangled in this scale 
and slide fevered

into a whirlpool of shared dissonance
till we arrive clutching, gasping
at the right clef, for air.

Who would've thought you thought

I was the violent one dragging you to hell,

When the sheet music the dark music 

The raging music in my head 

was a blind reading of your hands on me?
----------------------------------------------------------------------
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.


~T.S. Eliot [Four Quartets, Little Gidding, Part V]