HOLD ON TIGHT

HE SAID, MARIE, MARIE, HOLD ON TIGHT And when we were children, staying at the archduke's, My cousin's, he took me out on a sled, And I was frightened. He said, Marie, Marie, hold on tight. And down we went. In the mountains, there you feel free. I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter. ~ The Waste Land, "The Burial of The Dead", Eliot Sunday, August 10, 2008 red moon got back from baltimore for the weekend--i drove up with his uncle and dad to move in his stuff, then took the amtrak home. baltimore, around umaryland and johns hopkins, is a desolate wasteland, and he lives in a ugly and dangerous neighborhood next to the hospital, where tons of bored ghetto kids hang out outside black soul food joints, and the stretch sells nothing but fried chicken. baltimore near penn station is glamorous, expensive and beautiful, littered with gothic cathedrals and memorials. i was disconcerted, and uncomfortable, and dusty. the amtrak at midnight is full of grumpy travelers and quiet readers, few children. the train moved from baltimore to philly to new york and would continue on to boston. i got robbed and molested last week around my house--the molesting was a ruse to get me scared so they could grab my ipod from my hand. because the nypd in new york is a silly bureacratic blackhole ("uh, do you know where exactly, it happened? we'll drive you over to look at the spot. i'm awfully sorry but you have to file with the 25th precinct if it was before 110 st, but if the incident was north of 110th, you have to report to the 24th precinct..." "detective," i snap, "are you trying to say that i have to go through this all over again, if so, i am beginning to think this is a waste of time and because i am leaving the city, i value my peace of mind from silence more.") to cut a long, and unpleasant story short, i have decided, well, to hope they like my music. (also, if you are family or family friend, please don't mention this incident to my parents because i haven't told them about it yet, or they would be worried sick.) other than that, i've been reading. have an interesting manuscript about a boy who gets killed in a murder executed by all the girls who have had their virginity taken from them by him. i get irritated on the subway, and the best part of the very stressful last week (had to freeze a card, pay my school fees, deal with money issues and other grown-up things, drive myself up the highway to get my car number plate--ycl20n, emblazoned embarassingly, and beyond my will, with "maywood, new jersey," much to justin's delight) was swearing to no one in particular when i got out of a jam-packed-my-face-in-your-pits 1 train, like a crazy person. also took the wrong train one night, (the n, to coney island) but to my amazement, it flew from underground over the air, and over the east brooklyn river, where i watched a blood red moon rising over manhattan and the brooklyn bridge. so beautiful. posted by dawn # 10:00 PM Comments: woman. not only your parents worry abt you lehhh. please, okay, please please be safe. babe, im scared for you, okay! -hugg- -nj # posted by Anonymous : 8:07 AM i'm sure he'll like the songs i sent you. baltimore is where carmelo anthony and phelps hail from. -pak # posted by Anonymous : 6:24 AM Post a Comment << Home		[publishing] Publishers Weekly . Dystel & Goderich . New York Center for Independent Publishing . Association of American University Presses . Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators [people] clarisse . nurul . aunty zarina (ummi's bakery) . jeremy . pak . cyril . softblow . karen & kenny (booksactually) . eric . joel . [other loves] digitaljournalist . ballet dictionary . poetshouse . urbanwordnyc [me] dawn, singapore, new york city, ithaca. [yesterday] clambake cars and dirt plant i wrote this after leaving for new york. Ars Poeti... the man at the gate breaking bread his mother gave me a silver and glass pendant, it'... jaz The Summer Train i heart new york [archives] January 2007 February 2007 March 2007 April 2007 May 2007 July 2007 August 2007 September 2007 October 2007 November 2007 December 2007 January 2008 February 2008 March 2008 April 2008 May 2008 June 2008 July 2008 August 2008 September 2008 October 2008 November 2008 December 2008 January 2009 February 2009

HE SAID, MARIE, MARIE, HOLD ON TIGHT

And when we were children, staying at the archduke's,
My cousin's, he took me out on a sled,
And I was frightened. He said, Marie,
Marie, hold on tight. And down we went.
In the mountains, there you feel free.
I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter.

~ The Waste Land, "The Burial of The Dead", Eliot

Sunday, August 10, 2008

red moon

got back from baltimore for the weekend--i drove up with his uncle and dad to move in his stuff, then took the amtrak home. baltimore, around umaryland and johns hopkins, is a desolate wasteland, and he lives in a ugly and dangerous neighborhood next to the hospital, where tons of bored ghetto kids hang out outside black soul food joints, and the stretch sells nothing but fried chicken. baltimore near penn station is glamorous, expensive and beautiful, littered with gothic cathedrals and memorials. i was disconcerted, and uncomfortable, and dusty. the amtrak at midnight is full of grumpy travelers and quiet readers, few children. the train moved from baltimore to philly to new york and would continue on to boston.

i got robbed and molested last week around my house--the molesting was a ruse to get me scared so they could grab my ipod from my hand. because the nypd in new york is a silly bureacratic blackhole ("uh, do you know where exactly, it happened? we'll drive you over to look at the spot. i'm awfully sorry but you have to file with the 25th precinct if it was before 110 st, but if the incident was north of 110th, you have to report to the 24th precinct..." "detective," i snap, "are you trying to say that i have to go through this all over again, if so, i am beginning to think this is a waste of time and because i am leaving the city, i value my peace of mind from silence more.") to cut a long, and unpleasant story short, i have decided, well, to hope they like my music. (also, if you are family or family friend, please don't mention this incident to my parents because i haven't told them about it yet, or they would be worried sick.)

other than that, i've been reading. have an interesting manuscript about a boy who gets killed in a murder executed by all the girls who have had their virginity taken from them by him. i get irritated on the subway, and the best part of the very stressful last week (had to freeze a card, pay my school fees, deal with money issues and other grown-up things, drive myself up the highway to get my car number plate--ycl20n, emblazoned embarassingly, and beyond my will, with "maywood, new jersey," much to justin's delight) was swearing to no one in particular when i got out of a jam-packed-my-face-in-your-pits 1 train, like a crazy person. also took the wrong train one night, (the n, to coney island) but to my amazement, it flew from underground over the air, and over the east brooklyn river, where i watched a blood red moon rising over manhattan and the brooklyn bridge. so beautiful.

posted by dawn # 10:00 PM

Comments:

woman. not only your parents worry abt you lehhh. please, okay, please please be safe. babe, im scared for you, okay! -hugg-

-nj

# posted by

Anonymous : 8:07 AM

i'm sure he'll like the songs i sent you.

baltimore is where carmelo anthony and phelps hail from.

-pak

# posted by

Anonymous : 6:24 AM