Well hello you lazy punk flunks, why no writey?
Today the air was real nice, autumnal.
I taught a lesson in a school in Brooklyn I work at. Typical unbeautiful Chinese manager, barking orders in awkward English that is both unkind to the ears, the eyes, and the nose. And typical to teaching, the youngsters, prior to being conditioned to wanting the teacher to be a particular way with particular results in mind for some particular test in mind, like some of the high schoolers are, were very wild and rambunctious and I admired and encouraged them. Curious and loud and laughing and smiling. The high schoolers on the other hand were mostly sleepy half dead.
Well, enough about that. Later on I was in Rockaway Beach, and it was warm and pleasent, but the whole scene was kind of depressed and run down. There were old folks homes and halfway houses by the boardwalk. These institutions are absolutely terrible when magnified by the terror of the wide uncaring ocean and the wide uncaring sky, both steely grey in the evening. If I want to feel particularly sad I will come back in February to this same place.
Here is a funny time, the other night on 32 and fifth avenue I was hanging out at Grey Papayus with a bunch of Egyptians. Gotta love our city. I was teaching them Chinese. They swore I was something brilliant. I wanted to take more from the night still. I wanted to smoke a hash hookah with them transported body and soul to some calm quiet warm place where it is legal to sit outside in public at night and not feel that you have one person who is bad towards others anywhere near your place or your conciousness.
Another place like this would be where fish splash in large glass tanks. You pick the one you want to eat. Why do I feel like I must reteach myself how to socialize? Remember the good times singing in San Francisco? Remember when we all had less worries then? Well, till the next time.
Saturday, October 6, 2012
Well hello you lazy punk flunks, why no writey?
Today the air was real nice, autumnal.
I taught a lesson in a school in Brooklyn I work at. Typical unbeautiful Chinese manager, barking orders in awkward English that is both unkind to the ears, the eyes, and the nose. And typical to teaching, the youngsters, prior to being conditioned to wanting the teacher to be a particular way with particular results in mind for some particular test in mind, like some of the high schoolers are, were very wild and rambunctious and I admired and encouraged them. Curious and loud and laughing and smiling. The high schoolers on the other hand were mostly sleepy half dead.
Well, enough about that. Later on I was in Rockaway Beach, and it was warm and pleasent, but the whole scene was kind of depressed and run down. There were old folks homes and halfway houses by the boardwalk. These institutions are absolutely terrible when magnified by the terror of the wide uncaring ocean and the wide uncaring sky, both steely grey in the evening. If I want to feel particularly sad I will come back in February to this same place.
Who wants to feel sad though? With so much already forboding in the life of others we care about to feel sad about. So as necessary, I look on the bright side, and gather thoughts of the practical nature on matters and relationships that only I can affect and leave the rest to themselves. What choice does one have?
Here is a funny time, the other night on 32 and fifth avenue I was hanging out at Grey Papayus with a bunch of Egyptians. Gotta love our city. I was teaching them Chinese. They swore I was something brilliant. I wanted to take more from the nigh still. I wanted to smoke a hash hookah with them transported body and soul to some calm quiet warm place where it is legal to sit outside in public at night and not feel that you have one person who is bad towards others anywhere near your place or your conciousness.
Another place like this would be where fish splash in large glass tanks. You pick the one you want to eat. Why do I feel like I must reteach myself how to socialize? Remember the good times singing in San Francisco? Remember when we all had less worries then? Well, till the next time.
ROMANIA.
Today the air was real nice, autumnal.
I taught a lesson in a school in Brooklyn I work at. Typical unbeautiful Chinese manager, barking orders in awkward English that is both unkind to the ears, the eyes, and the nose. And typical to teaching, the youngsters, prior to being conditioned to wanting the teacher to be a particular way with particular results in mind for some particular test in mind, like some of the high schoolers are, were very wild and rambunctious and I admired and encouraged them. Curious and loud and laughing and smiling. The high schoolers on the other hand were mostly sleepy half dead.
Well, enough about that. Later on I was in Rockaway Beach, and it was warm and pleasent, but the whole scene was kind of depressed and run down. There were old folks homes and halfway houses by the boardwalk. These institutions are absolutely terrible when magnified by the terror of the wide uncaring ocean and the wide uncaring sky, both steely grey in the evening. If I want to feel particularly sad I will come back in February to this same place.
Who wants to feel sad though? With so much already forboding in the life of others we care about to feel sad about. So as necessary, I look on the bright side, and gather thoughts of the practical nature on matters and relationships that only I can affect and leave the rest to themselves. What choice does one have?
Here is a funny time, the other night on 32 and fifth avenue I was hanging out at Grey Papayus with a bunch of Egyptians. Gotta love our city. I was teaching them Chinese. They swore I was something brilliant. I wanted to take more from the nigh still. I wanted to smoke a hash hookah with them transported body and soul to some calm quiet warm place where it is legal to sit outside in public at night and not feel that you have one person who is bad towards others anywhere near your place or your conciousness.
Another place like this would be where fish splash in large glass tanks. You pick the one you want to eat. Why do I feel like I must reteach myself how to socialize? Remember the good times singing in San Francisco? Remember when we all had less worries then? Well, till the next time.
ROMANIA.
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