Warning - Contents May Explode

.

Suddenly, I'm the social butterfly.

Bryan took me out for lunch on Saturday and we ate sushi and talked all afternoon about our lives. While we sat in the restaurant, snow fell outside the windows onto Broadway and its tourist traffic huddled against the cold. They moved about the city, filled with smiles. It was a real bitch getting to Bryan this snowy Saturday. Some nut-job in Brooklyn stabbed and killed his girlfriend, mother and father-in-law over the use of the car. Then he ripped Brooklyn a new asshole as he drove up to the city, rear-ending cars, stabbing motorists, running down pedestrians, carjacking and finally deciding to catch the train at my station!!

Yeah, the 96th street station. He needed to get onto the train there just moments before I decided to. Nice, right? So when I tried to take the train downtown to meet up with Bryan, the train lines were shut down due to police activity. They were busy closing in on a killer who had taken his murderous spree into the subways. So I had to take a bus across town, catch the East side trains down to mid town and then take a cross town train back to the West side for me meet up with Bryan. It made me late and angry, but what else can you do when you live in this city. You learn to deal with it.

I didn't sleep the night before, so hanging out with Bryan, although fun, lacked my spirit. I was sleepwalking through the afternoon and afterward, when it was time to say goodbye, I didn't have enough time to head home and get some sleep before having to meet up with DJ for a movie. So I went to the movie theater four hours early and crashed on a bench in the vestibule of the building for an hour. I'm never a snappy dresser any longer so I wonder what security guards think when they stroll past me sleeping on their premises. So before I am thrown out, I get out.

I cross the street to a Cosi Restaurant and cop a squat at the bar with a Cafe Mocha. Using my patented homeless skills I sleep sitting up and watch the news for the last hour before going back to the theater and meeting up with DJ. We watch Black Swan, which I thought would knock me out cold faster than a Valium but instead I was amazed at the psychopathic images of despair and pain. It was like being on an acid trip for two hours. A very disturbing little movie.

From there we went to a brewery where I ordered up some exotic beer and then after adding hours to the evening, finally said good night. Only to come home to a broken elevator. I hate climbing up sixteen flights of stairs. I can't do it all in one pop and the pain and agony of the stairs is mind numbing. But it had to be done if I was going to get home.

Sunday, OBSIDIAN wants to go to D2theL's venue to read. Sounds like a plan, so off I go and hit D2theL's spot, reading my new poetry. Everyone wonders where I was all this time. I tell them in my self imposed exile. I read, drink tea, then go to a bar and drink beer until the wee hours of the morning with wildly attractive women. Only to come home once again to face the fact that the elevator is still not working. Son of a bitch. I am tired tonight and don't have the mustard to do it at all. I take it piecemeal. A floor or two here, a floor or two there. I hate stairs.

I get home. My entire body aches. I am very out of shape and need a workout soon. A long, progressive one. I take two pain killers and lay down in bed, floating away on strange days. Sleep claims me easily and I dream of living in trailer boxcars on floating barges. I dream of living for free. I dream of life without limits. I dream of snowfall and ballet dancers, of pain and suffering.

I dream a little dream of nonsense.

Hobobob