Welcome little one

Name: Scooter aka "Scoot tek" "Scooterino" "Scootbutt"

Affiliation: New member of the Tek Rebellion

Home: Portland, OR

Owners: Joetek & Sarak Ryckebosch

Loves: Balls (of the tennis variety, non human); dreaming of killing cats, squirrels, etc...; sitting on laps; much attention; tracking owners around the house; eating crusty spot on his back

Woven in fabric

It has been some time, hasn't it? Anyone left out there still reading this from time to time? I was just looking at this blog and realized I've had it since 2004. But lately it has been quite inactive. Maybe I'll put some more work into it. If I get at least one response to this I'll post more often, if not, fuck it I guess. Need to go put some tape on dead wood, yet again.

For Yoni, from Morrissey

I was looking for a job and then I found a job, and heaven knows I'm miserable now.

Here

City fades background
giant grey recedes into memory.
Hey, we're back on the road
endless miles, seems too much
stretched out far, so damn far.
This is the last, absolute last time I do this.
Shipped goods, shipped hearts.
Sometimes I walked around that place and felt proud.
Temporarily satisfied that I was doing it, that I was there, living.
Romantic notions of a place best kept at a distance.
Yes, we existed there. Now like some old dream just slowly
forgetting the details.
Here, we are here. This Pacific Northwest with its green,
its wet, its mountains--jeweled city in the forest? Perhaps.
Some time will be taken to adjust. Another new place, more new faces,
new jobs, new hopes, new takes on life. A return to form? Perhaps.
At any rate,
we're here.

So that's that

Hmmmm, so we are done. I mean no more 8917 69th Rd. Forest Hells, NY 11375. Interesting. When I usually leave a place I feel something, but leaving here I don't really feel anything. Good I guess. I didn't really want to feel anything other than relief. And at approx. 11:00 am this morning, I got a call from Sara saying that we indeed did get back a percentage of our deposit, which is good, but I honestly thought we were not getting anything.

It just seems weird not to have to make that long walk back out to the far reaches of Queens anymore. After today there is nothing there anymore; just an empty shell of an old, decaying, overpriced, tiny apartment situated above some of the most annoying neighbors we've had in a while. Worse than the old hippies who lived above us in Albany, way worse. I'll take hippies any day over sullen scallywags who get up to smoke at 8:00 every morning. Fucking sick shit.

Just like that its over, its over, its over, its over....wow, IT IS OVER! We kind of came full circle, really, 'cause now we are back in Astoria, the same place we were during or transitory period in between finding a place in Forest Hills. Kelly, our gracious host, has put us up again for a short time--a real short time this time 'round. After tonight we'll hit the road and then we'll be truly gone from NYC. The place will just recede into the background and it will remain, always, even though I think the entire city is in serious need of an overhaul. But hey, this place is gonna be here no matter what, and nothing I've done here will be of any consequence to anyone; no marks left behind, no one better or worse from my presence here. No amount of pass slapping cars, yelling at neighbors, writing in blogs, working at law firms, walking streets, breathing cold air, playing in parks, going on hikes, and drinking expensive beer will be of any substantial meaning to anybody. I was here, we were here, we lived here, we existed here. Like some film reel spilling out images in reverse all over a floor, there we lay, Sara and I, and little snapshots of our time here; little snippets of this surreal life that we've endured while in NYC.

All of these buildings here, all of these mad people, all of this superficiality will rise and fall, but we'll be far, yes, far gone and away from here. Like a dream, this place never existed. Can you remember it now? I can't, I just can't.

Haikus for exiting (previous NYC posts remixed)

speak backdrop glass

someplace else running

half smile on my face

an oozing bum

somewhere in the recesses

anachronistic against the backdrop

dizzy and falling

visage in the city of 8 million

his presence remains

television set climate

in and out at every shaky stop

switched off and dormant

a river of beige and brown

creates a shimmering sound

hordes of euro trash

the wee hours of a tuesday night

steaming breezes of sweaty men

technology strapped to her expression

this dude's a total asshole

emerge lost and disoriented

upon the crusty floor

you in turn slap or kick

a fake, a fraudulent

friendly Californian

thinking or using

lost or confused

zombie like commute

dark quiet street

very beaten down

musky air of morning

all human, all warm, all shapes

I feel stealthy

can exist without falling

millions of people shitting

pressure every now and then

walk right by me, as I do them

my hand hurts and my knuckles are bloody

silly vocals to get in the way

bounce around up there, echoing

another 30 minute rumble

crumbling cityscape

unlike the unmagic magician

my stop approaches

sound gathering night

queens half asleep

caught a glimpse of myself

nobody there to say goodbye to

this city's fascination

eat like a human being

background image

days slipping

frozen pillars of salt

break free and walk

life a living hell

a man with baggage

ochre colored accent

screaming at some

unknown party

responsible for people

walked down the street

this is just the beginning

or end

westward

Heliotropes

Weird reddish haze this morning as I drove Sara to the airport. She'll be in Portland, OR, our future home, scouting things out for a few days. I'm left behind alone here in the rotting apple. Drove back easily enough, though I was afraid I'd get lost like last time when I drove home from Laguardia Airport. Didn't want to be stuck cruising around Queens half asleep with my pajamas on. Strange morning, odd dreams still lingering and swishing around in my head.

Came back to our crappy little apartment and all was quiet there, 5:45 AM, probably the only time it is ever like that. Went back to bed to try and get some sleep before work. Set the alarm for 8:00 AM. All I need is just 1 hour more of solid sleep. Took forever to find it, but I finally did. Woke up to the buzzing alarm; its jarring sound resonating within one of my post waking dreams; real fast, quick images, and buzzzzzzzzz! I slowly rose from the lonely bed and headed for the shower. It looks so much nicer in there thanks to Sara's tireless work on it. Need to make this place look nice for our departure, need to get back as much security deposit money as we can, though we might not get anything. Breaking your lease does not necessarily grant you what you want.

Out of the shower and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, forgot I got a haircut yesterday, looks funny, maybe too short. Looks like they gave me one of those US Marine issue "high and tight" haircuts. I've always hated those moronic hair cuts and now I have one. Oh well, when you are partially bald the only way your hair looks any good is when it is short. Fuck it all, fuck the way people look.

I finally got dressed and took my time leaving the apartment. Nobody there to say goodbye to so I just easily walked out the door. Walked down the street and it was actually warm, almost humid. Seemed strange to be warm all of a sudden. The heliotropes are not here but somewhere they flourish radiantly.