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| fresh yarn, wylde, free us code, 2 pac, there goes the neighborhood, music cd production, landgrant review, adam goldberg, insult, marissa ribisi, | fried chicken wing/rotting garbage smell that permeates music match my neighborhood even though it’s 15 degrees out; my 8×10 bedroom, music match filled with stuff I haven’t even unpacked from my move back in May; my bathroom, which is getting so disgusting that I’ve taken to shitting in the gas station bathroom three blocks away; the garbage trucks, which seem now to be coming every night at around 2am; the hipsters who stand around in bars acting superior because they listen to bands with names like I Love You But I’ve Chosen Darkness and have the same haircut their mom/dad had in 1974; the music match frat guys in striped shirts who down $5 shots of tequila, high five, and pick fights; and the fact that it costs me $60 to get a buzz on on a night out. |
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| Then I’d try to write and get bummed out when it didn’t come to me. Then free us code I’d get drunker. And then I’d get sadder. At one point, I was so depressed that I was laying on the bathroom floor with free us code no pants on (though wearing a t-shirt and socks) as the shower ran while I played Monopoly on my cell phone. This lasted for over an hour. Also, it was probably about 3:30 in the morning when this was happening. I’m guessing that I probably free us code shouldn’t tell this story on a first date, but I’m trying to give you a little insight into the mind and life of a really, really, really bad writer. You’re welcome. But I’m back in NYC to the comfort and safety of my apartment. I missed the little things about my life here in NYC: the way my heat in my apartment only turns on after midnight and then makes the room temperature rise very quickly to about 85 degrees, causing my body to go into shock; the thousands upon thousands upon thousands of people on the streets in my neighborhood who are determined to walk very slowly in front of me, stopping suddenly for unknown reasons so I can walk into their backs; the way a sandwich and a gatorade costs $11; the |
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