The body was discovered on Thursday morning at the harborside light rail station. It was a Harborside Homicide; it wasn’t the first, and it sure as hell won’t be the last. I should have this rewritten in a hard-boiled mystery style.

I have been smoking weed for about 44 years. 1981 February Beatle fest, Perry Dedovich. Nowadays I smoke at home and I rarely leave my apartment, so I don’t know how I am. I haven’t Liberty State Park on a Saturday afternoon, June 28th, Julio Lopez’s birthday, he’s not here I am. That’s how it was supposed to be anyway.

I smoked half a joint here, and I can’t believe how high I am. It’s going to be a most pleasurable ride back to Hoboken. This is my spot underneath my friend, I call Tree, he’s a very nice tree or she’s a very nice tree. I don’t know sexuality never enters the picture, gender is fluid, it’s a tree.

So yeah just like I said, I’m really high right now, dictating into my phone. I’m about to resume my cycle after sitting under a tree for about 15 minutes, drinking some water, taking pictures, and listening to Bjork singing Isobel.

Thank you I’ll get back to you.

Now I am sitting opposite the Harborside light rail stop in Jersey City. I sit in the shade and I’m smoking the rest of the joint that I started smoking under the tree. A child is about to scoot by so I’m trying to be discreet, although I’m sure the area smells like weed.

It is a pleasant Sunday afternoon, June 28th, there’s a couple on another platform, and they seem to be looking directly at me. But in my mind’s eye, they abide, and it’s like they’re talking about me; “Did you see him? Is he the one? Yeah, he looks like he’s the one. I don’t know but you know he smokes that joint, and he really smokes it like he’s the one, cuz I have doubts. Yeah but I got this general vibe that he’s the one. You know if we ask him, he’ll deny it, which is what something the one would do, don’t you think? And now it’s the potheads’ dilemma wanting to relight the joint but can’t find the lighter, and having said that, I found the lighter.

A young man and a woman walked by or approaching, actually, a light rail pulls up into the station, it’s going north, it’s on the south southern track, what the hell is going on. It’s going to Tonnele Avenue and people don’t know because of the waiting for the train that’s supposed to be on the track that they’re standing next to, not the track that just pulled open up.

They’re not the type to ask anybody for help like a conductor or something I don’t know why am I getting involved with their lives instead of my business God damn it

In any event, the couple that I thought were looking at me and talking about me are no longer doing so since they were thrown off by the train that did not arrive. I’m crazy like that. I thought earlier about feeding this dictation into AI and saying what comes out. I did enjoy the Andy Warhol rewrite, and I’ll see what I come up with next?

That was written on Saturday, June 28th, and today is June 30th Monday. I spent yesterday, June 29th Bill’s birthday, with Bill and Mike at the New York City Pride parade. It was a magical day, everything seemed to work out nicely.

I had given Bill his gift the week before, an Apple Watch. Yesterday I gave him a nice shirt and a gift card for a store that he likes. Mike is supposed to start a new job at Jeff Bezos company, but thanks to artificial intelligence, it didn’t work out that way. But the pride parade was quite nice, it was Mike’s first visit to the Pride parade and we sort of experienced it for the first time through his eyes, though Bill and I have gone at least a dozen times together.

Whereas Mike was focused on the parade, I was focused on the people on the sidewalk that were walking back and forth in front of us, it was like a fashion runway. All different sizes, shapes, fashions, personalities, and whatnot, all walking by.

Bill and I wore T-shirts that read “I can’t even think straight,” which got a few chuckles and reactions. It was a very good day. We came back to Hoboken a few hours later, had birthday pizza at Grimaldi’s, and then came home for a quite lackluster Carvel ice cream cake. I ate it, Bill ate it, and Mike could not get through it.

Yesterday, there were thousands of people here, and today, there’s maybe a hundred. I am at my usual spot smoking a mini cigar. Yesterday, I was in the same spot smoking a regular cigar with Mike and Bill. I showed them the building where I worked, but not the office where I worked is which would have been silly. I mean, I am still a new guy, still on a 90-day probation of sorts.

I remarked yesterday that the sidewalk it was like a runway, a very gay, a very LGBT runway. Today, it is not that it is quite heterosexual, which to some means boring, and though I used the word earlier in a sentence, I think the proper word is lackluster.

It is a 4-day work week this week since the 4th of July is on Friday. Already I look forward to sleeping in till 9:00 a.m., it’s a low bar.

There was an older woman who sat next to us with her dog, and we tried chatting, but the music on the floats going by was much too loud, so I just nodded in the affirmative whenever it seemed like the thing to do.

Well, walking up 5th Avenue, I passed a man wearing a mod shirt. I stopped and asked him if he was a mod, and he said yes, and we chatted for a moment. His name was Rico. I believe his wife or his girlfriend or just a friend was with him, and he came flying over thinking I was going to hassle him, and we just talked about mod music as well as 2 Tone music, which was the connection.
The day in the office is quite quiet, though I am keeping myself busy. Marcus is, as usual, not very communicative as he eats his Chick-fil-A without any guilt.

Like I had mentioned at the beginning of this post on Saturday, I smoked a joint and noticed how high I had gotten, whereas I usually smoke at home and never realize how high I might be.

On Saturday, I smoked a joint, initially smoking one half and then smoking the other half on my way back to my crib in Hoboken. Yesterday I smoked a whole joint and was somewhat overwhelmed. I kept it together as nicely as I could and enjoyed the day as it unfolded in front of me, watching Bill enjoy himself and dance, and watching Mike erase the festivities going on before him.

And at work today, I completed the tasks that were asked of me by the agency that has placed me at the company where I am working.

At work listening to The Smiths for some reason, perhaps it’s because I’m reading an old issue of Mojo magazine that featured the Smiths on the cover.

Then I drifted back to a memory of August 1977, when I was on vacation with my mom and dad, which was probably the last time I was on vacation with them. It was just the three of us, and we went to Jackson, New Jersey, and stayed with my father’s friends, the Galatoas. My burgeoning sexuality has me focused on one of the Gallatoa’s sons and his scrotum that was hanging out of his terry cloth gym shorts. I got a lot of mileage out of that one.

We also went to Great Adventure, which was in Jackson, New Jersey, and traveled to Smithville, New Jersey, where we saw David Brenner and Florence Henderson perform on August 7th. Three days later, it was announced that David Berkowitz was arrested for the Son of Sam killings.

I slept incredibly well last night. Although I went to bed around 9:40, I don’t think I slept until 10:30, but still, whatever I could get was needed, and I used it wisely, waking me up a few minutes before the alarm clock.

I have updated my phone, and it seems that AI or artificial intelligence is having more of a say in what I do, and the results of my requests are slightly skewed.

At the job I’ve decided to take the path of passive resistance with regards to Marcus who walked through the door and I said good morning he said something that I did not hear him as the door had to be a bit noisy when closing I mentioned that I did not hear what he had to say and he just kept walking so if he wants to be like that that is fine with me. I have dealt with worse people than him, and I probably will at some point later on in life.

Not sure if he would be concerned that there’s anything that I wrote about if he knew about anything that I wrote, but he doesn’t, and he’s blissfully ignorant of this fact.

Mike came over last night and worked with Bill on some documents that he needs to start his job. Since I was quite fatigued, I stayed out of their way. I don’t know the status of the situation, and I’m sure I will find out eventually.

Things have gotten better between Marcus and me. We had a few words which are pleasant enough, smoothing down that troubled road that we seem to be headed towards, so it’s all good, Ninja.

So this morning I got my bagel and I explained to the woman behind the counter that I tipped her way too much the other day not that I was expecting anything out of it because I didn’t get anything out of it but I thought it was funny but I didn’t not take into account let her mastery of the English language isn’t that great so it just sounded like a bunch of words coming out of a white man which is what they were.

It’s not a bad day weather-wise, it’s in the 70° range, which is comfortable. I sat through a few hours of training on the computer, which excused me from a lot of work, but I guess this afternoon I’ll have to get back to the work, and that was a Friday afternoon, and there’s not much work work work work.

Bill is running around somewhere, Mike seems to have gone back to his crib, and I am having my mini cigar on my lunch break. I am presently sitting where I will probably be standing on Sunday, and here comes Mike on the phone, calling from his crib.