this summer has taken a lot out of me. can't say i've spend any time with anyone worth noting, and the only thing i've managed to accomplish is lining my pockets and wearing out my marked men albums. school starts tomorrow too. fuck. i still have to buy school supplies and books and pay off a $500 nailer and get some clothes since i've been running on 3 tank tops and a pair of shorts the entire summer then i have to take my cat to the vet cause i think she broke her leg then i have to deal with 2 different court dates, and i need new tires on my car cause i ran them out of pressure and i have to go to tennessee and renovate a house when i somehow have some time off, then my union fucking reassigned me to amsterdam so i can only go to school for a semester, then i have to go live in a hotel across the fucking ocean for 3 months while dropping 20 pounds on a night for a fucking room and get paid $27 an hour, and somehow during this time my father and i have to finish 5,300 square feet of this ridiculous fucking extension, all the while renovating 4 other houses that my dad bought to rent out, whilst i have to build about 150 feet of fucking retaining wall. my back is hurting and its hard as fuck to get myself out of the bed in the morning. my summer has actually been fucking awesome compared to how much fall is going to suck. so if anyone has called me or tried getting in touch with me; this is why. write me a letter.

on a perfect rainy day to try it out. technology, yr the devil, but 10,000 books jammed into something lighter than a paperback is too awesome. kind of a hassle to email all your books to it though, if you dont wanna shell out for drm-protected bullshit at 6.65 a pop.

it felt like a new completely new era today, all obamas aside. back in the 'wall, scrambling to put ends together, and eventually exasperated and laying with my back against the kitchen floor with my hands on my face. it gets me so woozy thinking about how many days i've wasted just so i can waste some more carefree with no stress or anticipation; no established preconceptions about what the next day is going to bring for me. today, maybe tomorrow, who knows. my time dosen't matter to me anymore as long as there is new places to visit, new scenes to take in, and more people to embrace. it's been three years in the making and i'm finally out of here. i'll come back when i find a willow tree that dosen't bend.

i'm starting to see the days repeat themselves on my skin. blisters form, tear up and renew while the scars start piling up on top of each other else where. bloodied up cotton swabs that smell like i put way to much peroxide on them scattered around my garbage. and despite washing my hair every once in a while my roots still nat up from a stellar collection of dust and sweat that accumulates from work, reminding me again that i'm trying too hard.

sometimes you gotta kick out under the maple tree with a gnarrrrl bowl and your favorite politcal theory and/or history book to break the grind of the everyday.

my favorite maple tree was down new rochelle rd, right off the basin of a pond. there was all different sorts of trees around it, but this one yelled at me. despite the fact of the changing seasons it was still green as a grasshopper. very vividly green, not that barely-clinging-on green too.

maples by all means are not very resilient trees. they hold in tons of moisture and when fall rolls around it stunts the absoption of chlorophyll; much more so then your typical elm or green tree. this guy was holding on for dear life though.

two days ago i went to my spot, only to notice that the tree was a stump from about two-hundred feet off. about a meter off, there was a sapling planted, out of the way of the cable lines that were clearly more important than mr. maple tree. in a few years, the sapling will be ripped out, probably during the fall, when it's stressing rebirth so bad. another one will be planted a meter off, until one day there's so many fiber optic lines that we can't afford to let trees grow because its far too cost-effective. i'm taken aback that when i'm walking to my apartment i have to notice the stump, not that cable lines.

so it goes. city life is not for me.

life is slowly becoming more and more confined. working and living in new rochelle is a grind, but i cheer up when i deposit my paychecks and check my balance; counting my sick days and my vacation days with it. it's hard, conforming, especially when you've been fighting against it your entire life. yet, from my experience, the only way to be free is actually bondage. i could've hit the road after high school, but i don't want to be a miserable mess when i'm older, thinking and rethinking about so many squandered days. by the rate of how many stamps i'm getting working 8 hour days plus overtime, i should be retired by 30-35, which is certainly something to look forward to. i should have my artisan certification by then too, so i can actually work for myself after i retire, although i feel i'm going to be indebted to dc9 for quite sometime, even if they don't feel that way. i've been immersed by stained glass lately, as completely uninteresting that sounds. the whole process and meticulousness of it is overwhelming.

adulthood is hard to grasp. i worked my ass off from 14 to 19, expecting some great thing to happen, but it's only the same thing. college is in the plans but there is way too many things that need to be taken care of. i can't dedicate four years and a heinous amount of money to an institution that can't teach me better than i can teach myself. i mean, are you college cats really happy? you have to wait four more years to retire. four more years of servitude. four more years of reliance and dependence. fuck, four more years of indecision would be enough to do me in.

i still find time off to take the bike out for a cruise down eastchester road every now and then though, scoping out north avenue and looping around the city a few times until i get dizzy. last week i got the opportunity to take my skateboard out at around 2am, hitting slopes only guided by streetlights, bracing for the gs and cuffing my hands together to kill some chill while hitting the bends. i got into an automated state, indiscriminately bombing hills regardless of skill level. my gloves got shredded that night but i was also able to catch the sunset. it was like every broadways song rolled up into one; the sun rising over the city while people were ignoring it and getting into their cars, getting ready for the commute and unfortunately, the rest of their day. the simple things have certainly proved to be the most enjoyable, turning themselves into self-sustaining activities that i need in order to wake up every morning. i need a gps or an ipod so i can start clocking my runs.

weekends have been reduced to bars in the city or long, drawn out acid trips in cornwall. trying to put some meaning into your life on the weekends is pretty pointless. i think einstein said something along the lines of "the loneliness i despised when i was younger turned into the loneliness i savored when i was older" or something like that. i find myself a whole lot more interested in what bf skinner has to say than my co-workers these days.

solidarity has pretty much taken over my free time lately when i'm in the city. when i'm not working or writing i'm finding myself printing up flyers and posters about two or three days out of the week (our union pays for the posters, the 8.5x11s come out of my own pocket) and distributing. it's pretty irrelevant though. the economy is beyond fucked, nobody has the time of day for unions. some, not even time for their kids. at least i'm trying.

awkward phone calls from old friends have been reduced to friendly small talk, ranging from 00:00:15 to 00:00:45. calls from back home are about 00:01:00 to 00:03:00 at the longest.

in a few months i'm gonna pack up again and get the fuck out of here for a looooong vacation. the days are-a adding up so quickly that i can't even see them changing anymore.