Posts from the ‘NYC Subway Photography’ Category
three words to the whack: step yourself back.
people who say that humans are doomed don’t know what the fuck they’re talking about. sure, we’re putting metric tons of pollution in the air. we’re sending out drones to kill people. we’re burning down cabins in california. we’re putting hundreds of thousands of people in jail for drugs. but that’s expected given the types of intelligence and fine motor skills we have. dolphins and little furry hamsters would do the same thing if they had what we had. but one thing we have that guarantees our long term survival is hope. hope is not based on reason or logic or common sense. it’s about believing in something that really has no chance of ever happening.
people tell me i should just breathe another day.
next stop, 2013.
microphone checker
swinging sword lecture
closing down the sector
supreme neck protector
be my friend. hold me.
keep going and don’t look back. i think i’ve heard or read that quote in one guise or another since the early 1980’s, you know, in graduation speeches, tea bags, shit like that where you were supposed to feel inspired. it advocated for thinking about your future and making the right choices and living with the consequences and becoming independent and other yada yada bullshit. but come on, is it really like that? i think most people, if given a chance now, would have remained attached either to their mother’s breast or a BPA free nipple while a nice steady stream of raffi and pureed sweet potatoes floated overhead.
i don’t hate the police. most of them are just trying to do their job. whatever the job actually means. but the point is that you don’t have to call the police for a lot of shit that we call the police for on a daily basis. for instance like the guy pounding his car radio outside your apartment at one in the morning on a saturday night. you call the police and then you refuse to give your name and stuff in case of retribution and you hide in the shadows of your fucking kitchen and giggle to yourself when the police and the sirens come around and they shut the guy up. or like when some guy is acting all crazy in front of the mcdonalds on nostrand. he’s just yelling and jumping around but he has no weapons and then when you call the police they roll up like fifteen deep and shoot the guy with mace and jump on top of him and everyone now has their cellphones out complaining about ‘police brutality’ and a couple “ohhhhhs!” and “awww shit man!!!!!” interdispersed every now and then followed by chuckles. i mean the whole thing is bullshit. call the police when shit really matters, like your building is on fire and there’s a guy throwing people into that fire. that’s when you call the police.
“is it real?” she asked.
“of course it is,” she said as she glanced at her friend’s thigh. she hadn’t seen anything like that in a long time. “i’ve seen it work with my own eyes.”
“really?” she said.
“put your hand in this bag. do it real slowly,” she instructed. “and when you’re about to scream, just hold onto my arm right there and everything will be alright.”
i woke up this morning and discovered i had become someone else. i’m not talking just about physical characteristics. i’m talking about certain talents like playing the acoustic guitar and cleaning out vacuum cleaners. it’s an amazing feeling to know that even though your life was never how you imagined it to be when you were younger, you still have some identifiable talents that your kids, inarticulate or not, could talk about to others in perhaps the same unremarkable situations you did during one of your many life experiences that made you so damn unremarkable. even when i wrote that, i had to read it a few times, and not because these new nails were in the way. it was because of these glasses. they share the same u.v. protection that the astronauts have. on one hand, they protect me from the sun but on the other, i can’t see shit out of them.
e v e r y d a y aperture 