It’s Saturday now and I have not been home yet. I’ve been back and forth between midtown and Harlem wondering in what direction I should be headed, sometimes walking, sometimes on a train (wasting money I don’t have to spare). No, seriously, I think I’m physically sick…
...read more here
…my initial reaction was to pretend to be happy for him while snickering to myself that his new girlfriend is by no means going to solve all of his mental issues and that in a few months or a few years he’ll be right back where he was where I found him: drinking whiskey like a fish in st. nick’s pub while looking for a woman to court and spark.
...read more hereAnd interestingly enough I just started a two-week coffee-and-alcohol fast the day before yesterday. I don’t even know what I’m really trying to accomplish by that. Lose weight/inches? Clear up my complexion? Deny myself something I like so I can pretend I’m doing something beneficial for myself?
...read more hereMy friend from Boston and I have been friends forever. We’ve been friends since the Rock of Ages was a pebble. We’ve been friends since before sliced bread was the next “best thing.” We met round about the same time dirt was invented.
...read more hereTomorrow is another day, isn’t it? Another day to do all the things I could have done today… just as long as I don’t beat myself up about it. I’ve found that I’m awfully fond of beating myself up about things and then not learning anything from the beating… Just as soon as I get it through my head that a New Yorker never ever has an excuse to do nothing, I’ll be all right.
...read more hereMaybe, I thought to myself, maybe I have that famous wanderers’ disease, and I’m simply never happy with the destination… any destination.
On further consideration, that’s bullshit, because I’m happy right now.
...read more here
