Classic NYC Story

Words of a poet… Soul of a musician…

Posts Tagged ‘moving’

On a rush to the wedding day or something like it

It seems a tragedy that I should let a person like him float in and then float out of my life without taking the time to get to know him. Suddenly I can’t stand the distance between us. There will be plenty of time for distance later when he’s married. Suddenly it doesn’t matter how badly it’s going to hurt…

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On all the different places

Usually when I imagine moving out again, it is to a place that’s very much like my studio in Flatbush where I lived with my husband… but why limit the imagination? I’d like to own a brownstone in Brooklyn Heights or Cobble Hill or a similar neighborhood… one of those three-or-four-story historical houses with a wide open back yard (you think we don’t have back yards in New York? We have back yards… some of us…)

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#PoetryCorner Friday: River

And every time it carries me
it carries me so far and so fast
that I don’t know where I am

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On oldness and phobias

Sorry, I’ve been reading tea party rhetoric. That’s where that last joke sequence came from. “Classic, why were you…” Shut up! But no, seriously though folks… actually I don’t even remember where I was going with this one. Eh, fuck it. They can’t all be gems…

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On lies my sister tells

The strange part about it is that he’s walking around the kitchen now as I type this in the adjacent room. I’d say I’m tempted to ask about the aforementioned incidents, but I’m a little nervous that they might be true. If they are, then I don’t know who that stranger is who is claiming to be my father.

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On the EOL of summer

Two memes in a row? Really? I’ve been kind of out of it, very busy with fast-approaching deadlines, sleep deprived, [insert more excuses here], etc. I’ve been a little angry and a little frustrated and not much able to put words together coherently. I was going to write a lighthearted post about my girlfriend from down the way and her little run-in with free-mason based conspiracy theories… but I just can’t right now

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On therapy

I don’t know why I have a therapist. Okay, yes I do: ’twas the doctor’s order. But on the real tip (as the older cats say) I don’t know why I have a therapist. Don’t get me wrong; she seems like a good person, and she genuinely tries to follow what I say, but talking to her feels like talking to you, and I don’t pay nearly as much to talk to you.

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On how to keep it going

As I understand it, Saturn will be in Libra for a month or so. This is bad timing for me. I don’t want a dispelling of illusions. Illusions are the only things that make life worth living. Illusions and alcohol…

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On impromtu visits

Maybe, 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.

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On teddy bears and comfort objects

It’s amazing the things I learned to live without while there. I was locked up for two weeks, and I didn’t miss the internet. I didn’t miss rum or tequila. I didn’t miss a cheeseburger. I didn’t miss busy-ness or productivity. Fuck, I didn’t even miss my shoelaces that much. I haven’t even put them back on my shoes yet.

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