It Mek

We are not in the business of minding our own business. That’s how it was told to me all those years ago. Now I come to find that the whole concept, the whole idea is coming true. All commitments have fallen by the wayside. I cannot say stop it and I cannot say shut up. It’s all out of my hands. All I can do is look back, not in anger but in an element of surprise, a surfeit of anxiety. A well spoken indifference is what got me through most bad situations.

Not that I can afford all the paperwork. And those investments never got me where I wanted to be. No fidelity in my finances anymore. I think my money is seeing other people, much to my relief. I depend on my eyes, to get me through various transitions that occur. I share my commitment and satisfaction with the doctor. He’d rather walk anyway. Despite having asthma for over 40 years, and the doctor is only 30. There is always a chance of asthma related death but the doctor has been known to live life on the edge. His first prescription was free and that’s how he got hooked, I heard.

It was on the Nightly classroom news. That’s what the Green brothers told me. Nice family. A bit dairy oriented, and that’s no lie. Big money in cow shit. It was in the past then. No more biting off more than they could chew. Waste into methane is where the action is. It’s a gas gas gas. What’s left after the community gets wind of this? Turned up noses and turned down turnips. Make a wish. The only responsibility they felt was to the cows. The cows ruled their lives. It all got a little out of control.

Still the rain fell on both the good and on the evil. It was forecast in the Farmer’s Almanac, conveniently located in most modern outhouses. No one really watched where they were walking, causing a lot of confusion, contusions and bruises. Whatever used to work to relieve stress stopped working the other day. Reliability is for suckers. Let the healing begin. Onward Christian soldiers. Tora Tora Tora.

Show the world how phenomenal you can be. You can barely feel the blade pressed against your neck. Being the best a man could get or be. Stay away from that odor they said. Just stay away if you know what’s good for you. Unfortunately I never know what’s good for me and that could lead to anguish or heartbreak. Either you’re in or you’re out. It’s up to you. Entirely up to you. I want to know immediately what’s going on.

Slick and slimy, greasy and grimy. Do you like scratchin’? I understand, you can’t stay. The funny thing is…well, that’s the sad part. The sad part? Well, that’s the funny thing. I thought we were supposed to meet there, but instead you were here and I left confused. Please don’t do that again.

Nutted By Reality

Today is a new day. Well at least it was when I woke up this morning. A better day than yesterday. Last night I was able to shake off the sturm und drang from the day before. Mainly figured it out as I sat in front of the computer painstakingly deleting thousands of spam messages that accumulated in my johnozed mailbox here on Word Press. Out of thousands, I found less than a handful that weren’t spam. One was an email from my ex-roommate’s ex-girlfriend, Monika. That was a mind fuck.

Somehow she found my blog and thanked me for posting a John Lennon interview from Imagine Peace. It really threw me for a loop when I saw her comment. I approved it and even forwarded it to William, my ex-roommate. Her comment hasn’t shown up yet which was odd, and I didn’t hear from William about it either. Not exactly holding my breath, I’ll move on.

Also found some comments from bhikkhu. I have no idea who bhikkhu is but they have written some nice, supportive comments so thet get a pass and my approval. I did send a welcoming email to bhikkhu but it came back, so say hello to bhikkhu whomever it is. Not gender specific you see. I found out that wwwedivasws is crafty with their comments. If I posted something on a Friday, I’ll get spam from them mentioning what a good Friday it was. Crafty I say. Now my spam box is empty, no more ads for insurance, Cialis or penis extension medications. If you’re interested in any of those things, let me know and I’ll forward you them web addresses.

This morning was very foggy. Couldn’t see the buildings on Hudson Street from my apartment like I always do, forget about even looking at Manhattan. It did clear up by the time I stopped by Smilers and got my egg sandwich from West Indian Tony. Of course he asks about Bill like he always does. Tony’s not doing so well himself. He’s got a bum knee and could need surgery down the line which makes him nervous. Sometimes knee surgery works, sometimes it makes the problem worse. I didn’t even ask if he had insurance. It’s a touchy subject and he’s a short order cook.

Got to the office, no one in. Had coffee and enjoyed the silence. People came in same as yesterday and the day before. Lydia made it in, she was looking and feeling great. I’m going to miss her when she leaves next month. It’s getting hard to hang onto a receptionist these days. $600 a week doesn’t seem to be enticing enough to make someone stay. Next month I’ll have to start searching again. Unless, Larry Stooge was right. He said there was no money in the company. I don’t know what he knows, but I suspect he was getting his info from Moe Stooge.

The problems that I had yesterday dissipated. I once again forwarded the paperwork and walked away. Letting Party A deal with Party B. I wasn’t going to get involved. Let them communicate with each other. My job was done. I also arranged to take tomorrow off and had the foresight to turn off the alarm on my cellphone, which usually reminds me not to forget my cellphone every morning. Too many times I have had a day off and tried to sleep in while the cellphone alarm goes off again and again.

It’s spring again and there were a lot of good looking people on the streets. Of course, not when I had my camera out. When I did have the camera out, they were gone and I took pictures of buildings. And here they are.

Foggy morning in Hoboken
Foggy morning in Hoboken

Architecture
Architecture

More architecture
more architecture

The East 49th St Gang
East 49th St Gang

In queue at bus terminal
In queue at bus terminal