…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 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 hereI have half a mind to just go back. If I get off the train now it will only be a twenty block walk… I’m not getting off. I’ve just pulled away from 125th street… 116th street… 110th… I’m out of Harlem now. I’m not going back.
...read more hereI don’t know how to relay through this literary medium the quietly introspective insanity that is four hours of subway and bus travel; two there and two back. Of course, I can remember a time when this was commonplace for me, and yet now I’ve become like an impatient child constantly wondering “are we there yet?”
...read more hereI can remember now the days when I would have done anything and spoken to anyone to be a part of a group like that. Those days were not too long ago. Just a few years ago, when I was young and fiery and artistic and intelligent and I made things happen. I also ruined a lot of things… I guess that’s how I got to where I am.
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