after i hung up with hitler's ballzit i sobbed. sobbed alone in rye's dorm room. sobbed quietly and openly. and listened to rye's neighbors argue over a dropped laptop. it made me sick to be snarled at by a stranger over the phone. and i was devastated i would be leaving tomorrow. i couldn't exchange my ticket for a later one, at least not for another 75 bucks. then rye called me soon after. the guys and her were setting up their artwork at live worms gallery. you should come, G, we're nailing things to the wall and there's beer. beer? free beer? soaked up my tears and took the bus down to stockton and columbus. it was around 10pm.
stood around drinking beers and smoking js. not me but others did. no one was doing any work. we were all laughing about the porn in the window. and talking about why the homeless lady came in to breakdance for us. stoner talk. stoner night. harvey's piece included a phallus to which i asked him why it was so small? small?!?! everyone asked why it was SO BIG?! what, are you used to big dicks or something? we chugged the rest of the beers and walked over to their apartment.
the view from their roof was amazing. black sky and four yellow stars. black buildings and a thousand yellow windows. we made up a story about the secret underwater lives of another human race and watched the fog roll in. stood there five flights up in san francisco. i felt like we were the only ones awake.
0 comments:
Post a Comment