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.

Proustian Slumber Part II

The smells and sights of my dreams

Sage brush and the rotting carcass--in the desert behind the juniper bush after a light rain.

Skateboarding with great ease.

Lost in a landscape, dark, no exit, wake up fast, heart beating...

The old backyard and mysteries hiding behind the fence.

Fragments of people I once knew, they come in and out of frame, some blurred together to create people slightly recognizable.

Talking too fast and not conveying what I want to, information lost in speech, inability to speak, nervous.

Catalina Island--summers spent there, fragments thereof, smells of greasy food, fishy pier, suntan lotion...

Sequential, short, "speed dreams". As if I'm fast forwarding through mindscapes in order to find the correct dream to dwell on for a while. Weird.

Are you prepared to save the...

These strange and vivid "choking victim" posters appear at virtually every eatery in NYC. Some look a bit different than the one above, but they all basically convey the same thing: if somebody, anybody chokes in your presence, it is YOUR responsibility to save them. How fucked up is that? Talk about putting the pressure on going out to eat. Not only do you have to wait hours to sit in little cramped dining spaces, and spend exorbitant amounts of money on food that isn't even that great, you also just might have to save that big lard-ass sitting at the table next to you because he engulfed his steak too fast and started choking. I ask one question: should I be responsible for people who are in too much of a hurry to not chew their food properly? Answer: no.

I do not agree with this city's fascination in getting things done quickly. It is a major societal flaw in my book, and it extends into the population's eating habits. I've seen men crossing busy city streets trying to cram down a pizza slice while smoking, drinking coffee, and talking on their cell phones all at the same time. If he chokes, fuck 'em, he'll learn next time not to try and do a million things at once, if there is a next time.

So, I guess it makes sense why city officials would want to put these things up for all to see. Others cities in the nation don't have these ridiculous things posted everywhere. Only here in New York. New Yorker's pride themselves on being efficient, even if it means almost choking to death because you have no time to sit, relax, and eat like a human being.

I especially love the background image on the poster of what appears to be a pregnant belly with fish bones and a lemon wedged in there. Once again, NYC is one fucked up place, sheeesh. But you should still visit to see these things first hand. Truly unbelievable.

What a strange and surreal trip it has been

leaving California, the West slowly vanishing in the rear view mirror

the long long road

more long road

driving for eternity

stops for fuel

stops for food

stops for sleep

the continued drive, forever

my past leaving me

what's to come?

lay ahead, many lies ahead

who knows

strange passing faces

terrain becomes unfamiliar

going further than ever before

worried, anxious, excited

old thoughts kept under check

don't want to ruin this

want to give this a chance

landscapes rush by

brown

green

brown

grey

days slip in and out

feel culture change rapidly

Chicago

Indiana

Ohio

NYC

Astoria, Queens

stinky

dirty

HOT as fuck

sweltering

these days pass

now memories

seems a lifetime ago

slow acclimation

too slow

FAST acclimation

more culture shock

days pass, days pass, days pass

a new job

some new friends

a new band

am I the same person I was...

3 months ago?

6 months ago?

seems forever

suddenly...

it is COLD as fuck

snow everywhere

end new band

long walks in the morning

longer walks home at night

learn to bear it

not learn to love it

wonder if I can ever truly love a place again?

feel like I don't belong anywhere anymore

so transient

(see all previous Morninghater posts regarding NYC)

see distant change

see a future

AWAY! YES, GET THE FUCK OUT!!!!

will do, will do

Westward again

plans are made

planning

waiting

still waiting

waiting

waiting

waiting

waiting

waiting...

Summoning

Discontent breeds creativity

soon to change...

more on this later